


Kingdom Fall

by Abunchofbadchoices, rulesofthebeneath (radishphilosophy)



Category: Choices: High School Story: Class Act (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Canonical Character Death, Drinking, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Harassment, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Inspired by The Selection Series, Loss of Parent(s), Minor Character Death, Parent Death, The Selection AU, Trauma, Trigger warnings:, Underage Drinking, reality show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 213,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abunchofbadchoices/pseuds/Abunchofbadchoices, https://archiveofourown.org/users/radishphilosophy/pseuds/rulesofthebeneath
Summary: Co-written with abunchofbadchoices. When the Princess of Solari, Princess Beatrice Everhart, faces an unexpected tragedy, she is faced with an impossible task. Will she rise to the occasion, or will she be crushed under the pressure of her country's expectations?
Relationships: Ajay Bhandari/Main Character (High School Story: Class Act), Skye Crandall/Main Character (High School Story: Class Act)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue

"Leon, Leon, Leon!" 

The sixteen-year-old princess called from the doors of the palace, excitement evident in the way she sang her brother's name as she rushed across the dance floor, her yellow gown swishing behind her like a wisp of morning sunlight on the bright blue sky. Her smile was so contagious that the guests and even the servants she passed by couldn't help but smile after her.

"No running around the dancing couples, honey!" the Queen chided from the high table, but she herself was unable to stop the smile on her face at the sight of her cheerful daughter.

"Sorry, Mom!"

"Princess! Your Highness," a little voice cried. Beatrice stopped and turned to see two children running towards her, each holding colorful flowers that they must have picked from the garden where they had been playing the whole time. "We got you flowers!"

The princess beamed, kneeling down so she was the same height as the kids. "Why, thank you! These are lovely."

"We saw them when we were looking for the ball." The little girl said. 

"Do you know what I want to do with them?" Bea asked. 

The children nodded enthusiastically in unison and the princess whispered something in their ears. Their faces brightened before they zoomed away, waving their flowers excitedly.

King Alan shook his head, exchanging amused glances with his wife, knowing that they could never truly be mad at their only daughter. Their youngest son Ian, who had been oblivious to all the admiring stares from the girls not far from their table, had his heart and mind focused on the feast in front of him.

"Leon!" Princess Beatrice breathed out once she reached her older brother. 

The Prince gave the lady in his arms an apologetic smile and a kiss on the back of her hand as he left the dance floor and joined his baby sister on the side. "What news?"

"She got it!" 

"Wait, really?" Leon grinned, pulling her to the side to avoid the ears of the nobles standing nearby. "What did she say? I thought she was dating someone."

"No," Beatrice rolled her eyes. "And you'll know that if you weren't so scared to talk to her."

"I wasn't scared. I just don't want to intimidate her or anything."

"Right." She said, accentuating the word to express her disdain. "You know how any girl would literally kneel and beg for you to take them as your wife, right?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Your point?"

"My point is," Bea reached up and fixed her brother's lapel as she spoke, the golden tiger pin gleaming under the daylight. "Without your title, or the big palace, or the handsome face, you're still Leon. And any girl would love to get to know you and spend time with you. You just need to look past their intentions and listen to them. That won't happen if you just stare at them eleven meters away and hope they'll spare you a glance."

"How can you even begin to talk to a girl?" He asked, looking very confused. 

"I'm a girl, am I not? You and Ian talk to me just fine."

"That's different, you're our sister!"

"And you're twenty-four years old, jeez!" Bea pointed out, getting frustrated. "I swear the press makes it seem like you date two different girls every week when in reality, you've only dated like three, and they don't even live here."

The King finished his drink and stood up, the Queen following soon after and giving their son a gentle squeeze on his shoulder before leaving the high table. They made their way through the party, greeting guests and exchanging pleasantries as they went.

They found their two older children on the edge of the dance floor, talking excitedly to each other in quiet voices. The King stepped closed as if to listen and the two stopped in surprise.

"Dad!" Leon's face flushed, thinking their father might have heard something.

"What is this about?" Queen Faith asked, looking from her son to her daughter.

"Mom! You wouldn't believe what just happened," Beatrice said. Leon was about to cover her mouth before she could say anything but it was too late. "Leon finally scored a date with Lady Harriet!"

The Queen smiled, but she didn't seem so surprised. "I'm glad to hear that, Leon."

Leon bit his lip, looking so embarrassed that he probably wished the marble floor would just swallow him up. "Thanks, Mom, but seriously--"

"About time." The King remarked, grinning. "All that pining and those longing glances across the room were getting too painful to watch."

The princess laughed, much to her brother's annoyance.

"Told you that inviting her over to every party would work." King Alan whispered conspiratorially to his wife.

"Ugh." Leon groaned. "I'll just go check on our guests in the garden."

The three of them shared a laugh. The prince rolled his eyes playfully but bowed respectfully to their parents before taking his leave and turned to the direction of the garden. Leon froze as the guests and children outside suddenly burst into the palace doors in panic, almost running him over in confusion. 

The orchestra stopped playing at once and the couples on the dance floor and the guests dining on the tables fled further into the palace along with the others. Soon, the sound of gunfire was heard coming closer to the palace, mixed with the sound of screaming from the terrified guests and the shouts of orders when General Frank and his troops gathered with their weapons on ready.

The King pulled his wife closer to his side and looked around for his children.

Leon ran to Bea's side, holding her hand firmly and giving his sister an assuring glance. When the princess went to check on her twin brother, Ian was already being dragged by a couple of nobles to safety. "Wait, Ian!"

"Your Majesties," Frank bowed, urgency in his tone. "We have to get you to safety."

An explosion outside caused the ground to shake and dusts fell from the ceiling. 

"We'll find our way to the safe room." The King agreed. "Go, check what's going on out there!"

Frank was hesitant, his duty was to protect the King and his family at all cost, but the grave look on the King's face indicated it was an order so he led his troops through the palace doors without another word.

"Let's hurry," King Alan said to his wife and the two children that were with them.

Beatrice clung to her brother's side, and Leon held her close. She was shaking in terror. The gunfire was getting louder, and through the windows, they could see men in dark clothes that were slithering through the edges, in a fierce fight with the Palace guards.

The half-dozen guards that remained with them were on high alert, so was their Uncle Stefan, the King's cousin. They headed for a small service door across the room, a bit concealed by a marble statue. It will lead them directly to the passageways and down on the sub-level of the basement where the safe rooms were hidden.

They were almost at the middle of the Great Hall when one of the uniformed soldiers ran after them.

"Your Majesty! King Alan! The General is down!"

The King turned abruptly after hearing the man's words, facing the man. "What?"

They all waited for the soldier to come closer, apprehensive.  _ General Frank was dead? _ A new wave of fear hit the princess and she cowered behind her brother's arms. 

The soldier approached with urgent footsteps and when he was close enough, he took off the cap on his head. Everything that happened next was too fast for them to stop it. 

The man raised his gun and shot the king in the chest. Before the king's guards could act, bullets started raining all around them.

"Dad!" the princess screamed, but her voice was muffled as Leon pulled her down to the floor and shielded her from the bullets using his own body.

When the firing came to an end, their faithful guards were all dead or bleeding on the floor. King Alan tried to stand, clutching his chest as the blood seeped through his fingers. 

"No--!" He grunted in pain and raised his bloody hands to the men as if the gesture would make them change their minds. "Stop--!" 

Two of the men crouched down and grabbed Queen Faith from the floor. She was unharmed, but tears were flowing down her cheeks as she pleaded for the rebels to let her and their family go.

"You don't rule us," the man from earlier said. He took off his military cap and tossed it aside, spitting after it. 

King Alan managed to get up despite the pain, taking deep shaky breaths. "L-Let them go, they… they have nothing to do with this."

"Do we look like we're here to follow your orders, huh?" The man shouted in fury, shooting the king once more, this time in the knee. The king roared in pain, collapsing on his own pool of blood but he didn't give up. "Your entire family is involved in this as much as you. What makes you think we're here to spare any of you?"

Another shot stirred the princess from being knocked out during the firing. She tried to move, but a hot searing pain flared over her shoulder and she cried out, alerting the other men. Dozens of guns pointed at her and the body lying on top of her.

"Leon…" she whispered. The prince didn't move, he didn't even respond. It was as if he had passed out as well.

Beatrice steeled herself and shifted her brother's body aside.  _ He was knocked out _ , she told herself.  _ Leon will wake up if I try harder _ . She couldn't help the whimpers that came from her mouth when she tried. Her lips quivered from both terror and pain as if half of her body was being set on fire if she so much as moved a finger. 

"Ha! The princess is alive. See?" the man cackled. 

"No… please, not my children!" the Queen pleaded. "Whatever you think we did to you, they had nothing to do with it!"

"Leon, wake up!" Beatrice sobbed. She was clutching on her brother's blood-stained dinner jacket. They were both covered in blood, and a pool had already gathered around them. Her once yellow dress had turned dark as her brother bled out on her. She looked up at their mother, sorrow in both of their faces. "Mom? Leon won't wake up."

"He will never wake up, dear Princess," the man mocked. 

The princess faced the man and for the first time, it registered to her that he wore the king's guard uniform in disguise. His eyes were red and bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept in days. His hair was unkempt, as well as the growing beard around his jaw. His most horrifying feature was the cruel glint in his eyes. He was enjoying it, watching them beg for their lives and be swallowed by their grief.

He spread his arms proudly, his gun not leaving his hand. "By the order of our Great Leader, I hereby sentence you, King Alan and Queen Faith… to death."

"No!" Bea screamed. "Mom! Don't hurt my mom!"

"I love you, honey," The Queen mouthed at her one last time.

"No, no-- stop--" King Alan weeped. He fell back to the floor as he tried harder than ever to get to his feet. "F-Faith, love, close your eyes… we will b-be alright…"

No one listened, Beatrice could barely hear her own voice, the sound of her screams felt empty and void as one of the men holding their mother pulled out a long knife and stabbed the Queen from the back. The knife went through to her chest and the last drops of tears rolled down her cheeks before they discarded the Queen's lifeless body aside.

King Alan stared at his wife as she fell, her eyes looking back to him, but they were empty. Tears streamed down his face, all his pain suddenly felt nothing compared to the overwhelming sorrow threatening to choke him. 

The princess buried her face on her brother's chest, shaking in her grief as she called for her mother. 

Hearing his daughter's cries gave the King enough will to grab the gun that fell from one of his guards but as he raised it, all the men started firing at him at once.

"Please! Stop!" Beatrice begged, almost hysterically. "Dad!"

At that point, she was just waiting for her turn and was more than ready to join her parents. Her ears had been ringing from all the gunfire around them, her whole body went numb as she watched both of them lay side-by side on the floor.

"God save the new Queen," the man said once more. Bea met his eyes and a wave of anger flooded in her chest. He was smiling humorlessly and she realized he was talking about her. He gave her a mocking bow. "Not that you're gonna live long enough, Your Majesty." 

He walked closer, pointing his gun at her and the princess closed her eyes. Beatrice waited. She waited and waited and flinched when the shot finally came. The bullet hit Leon's back, his body convulsing. 

"No, no… Leon," she grabbed her brother's shoulder and pulled him on her lap, her hand on his cheek. "Please…"

The blood on her palms smeared on his face but she doesn't care. She tried to shake him awake. She knew it, she could still feel him. 

"We've done what we came here to do," The man told the others. "Gather everyone and tell them we bring the news that the King and Queen are dead. Let's go."

He and his men fled from the room and at once, Bea heard the gunfire stopped. Only a few seconds later, the doors to the Great Hall burst open and a familiar voice rang out. "Your Majesty, the rebels--"

Bea raised her head from Leon's chest and met the horrified look on General Frank's face as he and his troops took in the scene in the middle of the dance floor. The King and Queen lying next to each other, lifeless. And the Crown Prince on her lap, his life bleeding out of him.

"What-- I--" The General was rendered speechless. He dropped his gun and ran to the King's side. "Sir…" 

The princess shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. The nobles and the guests who hid when the rebels came started spilling into the Great Hall, their faces struck with fear. Before the guards could stop him, Ian scanned the room and soon his face was streaked with tears as well as he rushed to their parents' bodies. The room fell into a different kind of chaos once everyone realized that their King and Queen were dead. 

Amidst the chaos, Bea refused to move. At first she didn't feel it but Leon's hand, the one she was holding, twitched. She looked at her brother to see his eyes were half-open, dazed. "Leon? Are you--"

The lump on her throat made it hard for her to formulate any words. Leon looked at her for a long moment, unresponsive. "H-Hey… speak to me...we-- We need you."

Leon's green eyes blinked slowly as if seeing her for the first time. The corners of his lips quirked in a smile before a series of coughs took over him, blood bubbling on the edge of his mouth as he did. "Bea."

"I'm here, brother." She sobbed in relief.

His weak hand reached for hers. It was clammy and sticky and cold, but Bea took it quickly, as if he would disappear if she wasn't holding his hand. 

"Please…" He started, his voice was barely a whisper, along with his raspy breath and the slow beating on his chest. "D-Don't let… let go…"

A single tear rolled down the side of his face as he took one last breath, the remnants of his smile and his warm gaze soon vanishing along with him. 

When Beatrice looked down on their hands, she noticed the gold signet ring of the Everhart family resting on her palm. Leon had somehow managed to pass it over. She looked around and saw Frank, the party guests, the nobles and the rest of the King's Guard had their eyes on the ring in her hand before they slowly sunk to their knees in front of her.


	2. Crown Princess

_Two years later..._

Bea played with the silver fountain pen with her hands, her mind going over the upcoming events and the corresponding preparations that she will have to oversee in between her private classes and the regular political meetings she has to be in. 

It turned out that Bea’s schedule won't be as packed as she thought it would be. Still, she had to work twice as hard to fully understand the obligations that will be handed to her soon. 

After the death of her parents, King Alan and Queen Faith, along with her older brother, the Crown Prince Leon, everything in her simple blissful life seemed to have shifted completely into something much heavier. The role of the future monarch of their beloved country had been passed down to the next child in line. That happened to be her, Princess Beatrice Everhart of Solari.

If this happened about three decades ago, it would have been her twin brother Ian on the throne. Despite being younger by three minutes, he would have been the next heir to the throne due to the patriarchal system that their monarchy used to follow. When their father ascended and became King, he started changing a bunch of laws and rules pertaining to their country, including the one which now stated that the female firstborns in their family would have the right to lead and become Queen. Much to the King Father's disappointment. 

Now here she was. A seventeen year old soon-to-be Queen. At the age of sixteen, it became her obligation to learn and attend every meeting and assembly from advisory to foreign affairs in order to prepare for the time when she would finally take the reins. It could have been her brother. For all his talk about being more athletic, she sure had beaten him by three minutes. 

"Beatrice."

Bea dropped her pen, her back straightening as she directed her attention back to the meeting happening at the moment. She found at least a dozen pairs of eyes staring at her. "Yes?"

"Were you paying attention at all?" Her grandfather, the former king and now the current regent, gave her a chiding look. 

Bea blushes, embarrassed. "Yes, grandfather."

She crossed her fingers, hoping he wouldn't be asking any more questions because she really wasn't paying attention at all. As far as she remembered, they were talking about further upgrading the security system of the palace grounds. The rebel attacks might have decreased after the death of the king and queen and their first born son, but that didn’t mean they’d dropped their plans on taking down the monarchy altogether. The palace guards managed to contain the three rebel attacks that happened after that, which thankfully, meant almost no casualties. 

Her grandfather trained his sharp blue eyes on her for a few seconds before turning to the advisors. They were all Twos, giving them noble status. In the eight castes of Solari, the Twos were politicians, nobles, celebrities. The most powerful people in society. The only ones with more power and wealth were Ones. Royals, like Bea and her family. 

The advisors droned on and on about the economy and the foreign alliances that need more attention and, as cold as he might seem, Bea couldn't help but admire how the former king listened to every word and how he seemed to consider their suggestions about what their next steps will be. Every now and then, they would ask Bea about her opinion on a certain matter and she would try her best not to falter or show how intimidated she was. The meeting adjourned and Bea started collecting her notes and papers that she would have to review later on.

"If I may, sir," one of the older advisors, Mr. Crandall, cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention. "We have another important matter to address, now that the Princess is soon to come in age."

Bea stopped collecting her things upon hearing her title, and so did the other advisors. Rodger Crandall projected the same attitude as her grandfather: authoritative, sharp and overall businesslike. 

"We all know it is mandatory for all heirs to the throne to undergo the same process, and while the princesses were used to having arranged marriages for foreign alliances," Mr. Crandall nodded his head towards her. "We can't ignore the fact that rules have changed since the late King Alan was crowned. Wouldn't it be high time for our dear Princess to move through the same process her predecessors have gone through?"

_The Selection_.

The word came to her mind the same time as she saw it dawn on everyone's faces, and she didn’t like it. Before she could protest or say anything, her grandfather beat her to it. "Are you suggesting a different kind of Selection?"

The advisors started murmuring to each other, most of them nodding. 

"But, Grandfather," Bea stood, planting her hands on the table. "There are no rules suggesting that future Queens will have to go through the same thing."

"And there are no rules that say you shouldn't, either," the former king countered. "You might be a girl, but that doesn't mean you are exempted from the obligations as the future leader of this country." He turned to the advisors without waiting for her response. "We will have to look into that matter in these coming days, as it might open some opportunities as to how to prevent these rebel problems and to distract the public from them. You are all dismissed."

The advisors stood from their seats one by one, bowing their heads at both Bea and the King Father before leaving the room until it's just the two of them. Bea hadn't moved from her spot at all, waiting for her grandfather's snide remarks about her behavior during the meeting. 

"Beatrice,” he said, his tone quiet but condescending. 

Bea looked up, not saying anything. Her mind was reeling. She’d heard stories about the previous Selections that happened in their family. Hell, her parents met through one and were lucky enough to end up loving each other as if they had known each other their whole lives. But her? Just thinking about meeting thirty young men, all from lower castes than her, and having to deal with them for the entirety of the Selection gave her the creeps. She didn’t know the first thing about what life was like for people in the lower castes. Of course, she knew their official statuses: Fours were business owners or mid-level executives, Fives were artists and performers, Sixes were servants and secretaries and maids, and Sevens were manual laborers. She knew their place in Solarian society, but she didn’t know anything about how their lives actually were. The isolation of the palace made sure of that.

The sound of footsteps and the tap of a wooden cane to the floor indicated that her grandfather was walking around the room, eyeing her with scrutiny.

"You were not born into these kinds of responsibilities, everyone knows that, but you have to start thinking more for your country and pull your head out of the clouds. Things will get harder for you from here on out. Our people will be looking into every move and decision you will make and I will not stand here and watch you drive this country into an even bigger mess than your father's pathetic attempt of softening up the rebels with smiles and flowers, do you understand?"

"Yes, Grandfather." Bea nodded her head, but a small bubble of anger slowly built in her chest. She knew the King Father and her Dad used to have disagreements as to how to run the country and it showed every time he criticized his son's decisions even after his death. King Alan had wanted to improve things for the lower castes: the Sixes, Sevens, and especially the homeless beggars that made up the Eights.

Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do. He had been King once, he knew the country better than anyone. And he had more power than anyone.

"The Selection is a necessity, and you'll have to face it one way or another," he added. "You being a girl means we have to change a handful of rules, and we have to ensure you don't end up marrying an idiot or a fool into this family."

"Which is more likely what will happen. Please, Grandfather, is there really no other way?"

"Why, unless you already fancy one of those Princes who come here during their foreign visits?"

Bea shook her head quickly, she couldn't help but shudder just by thinking about how Prince Brennan of Ireland was such a hazard even to himself, or that grotesque smile that the Prince Matéo of Belgium always gave her when they visited. She could never ever imagine herself being married to any of those boys. 

"I thought so." Her grandfather stopped in front of the tall window and turned to face her. "As advantageous as that might be for our foreign alliances, the Selection has never failed to appease the public, even for a while. There's nothing more interesting than seeing one of their betters marry someone far beneath their station." 

She stayed silent, not sure whether it was a good idea to talk back to or argue with the old man who already doubted everything about her. 

"I'll take it that your silence means we're done? You are free for the rest of the day to contemplate how you'll deal with the Selection. Tomorrow, we'll start the planning with the rest of the board. You're dismissed."

Bea sighed heavily, nodding her head before picking up her paperwork and leaving the King Father alone. She leaned against the wall as soon as she was outside the meeting chamber, closing her eyes to take a few deep breaths. Her shoulders felt like the weight of the entire palace rested on them, which was partly true, but she couldn't let anyone see her like that. So Bea stood up straighter, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin as she walked back to her room. The only place where she would be for the rest of the day to sulk and hide away from everything. 

  
  


  * ••



  
  


"Knock, knock!"

Bea recognized her brother's muffled voice from outside her bedroom doors. She stopped playing the piano at once. Her fingers hovered over the keys and the room suddenly felt so quiet when the music stopped. Well, she might as well deal with him. She knew her brother would look for her if she happened to disappear for hours and definitely wouldn’t leave her alone till she told him why she was hiding away.

"You missed lunch." Ian said as soon as she opened the door. He walked briskly into her room like it was his own room and she followed him. Ian was dressed in a casual Polo shirt and an argyle sweater vest that matched the color of his dark pants. The soles of his leather shoes echoed in his steps.

"Grandpa says I'm free for the rest of the day." She shrugged. 

Ian stared at her face, eyes narrowed as he waited for any sort of elaboration and huffed when nothing came. "You're acting weird, almost… anxious. What happened?"

"The country happened."

"Yeah, sure. But really, what's going on? The last time I saw you with sunshine on your face was during breakfast. Then you went to the...oh!" His eyes lit up when the realization came through. "The advisory meeting! What happened?"

"You won't believe what they suggested I should do." She slumped on one of her couches in a very un-princess-like manner, a pout on her face. 

"Another tea party with the old ladies at court?" Ian guessed. 

"No, worse."

"Oh, crap. Is there even anything worse than that?"

"Yes, Ian. There is. Grandfather wants me to do The Selection." Bea spread her arms. "How crazy is that?"

There was a pause after that, the words seemed to sink in slowly in her brother's mind. 

"You're kidding," he finally said.

"I wish."

Ian studied her face more and saw that the anxiety on her face is no joke. "But how? The Selection is only for the Crown Princes of our country. What, they're gonna make you pick like thirty guys from all over then choose one of them to marry and live happily ever after with him?"

"Exactly."

"That's insane!" 

Bea gave her brother a look that says that's exactly what she thought. She pouted as she paced around her room, crossing her arms. She knew full well she was acting like a five-year-old, but the situation was just so unreasonable that she had to react in an equally unreasonable way. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“It might not be that bad,” tried Ian, but it came out more like a question than a statement. 

With everything in her, Bea had cursed the three minutes that separated her and Ian. They had made her life into the bizarre fantasy realm that it was, starting today.

“It _is_ bad,” Bea argued back. “I don’t want a Selection! They can’t force me to have one.”

“They actually can,” Ian reminded her. 

“Well, they shouldn’t,” Bea replied, pouting again and sitting down heavily on the corner of her bed this time that wasn’t occupied by her clothes or her twin brother. She scowled at him, having the audacity to sit there and tell her what she should be feeling when he had no idea what her life was like.

Sure, they were family, and sure, they looked the same, but it stopped there. After their brother Leon died, as the new oldest child-- by _three measly minutes_ \--, Bea became the heir to the throne of Solari. And as much scrutiny as Ian was under for being a prince and the next in line should Bea suddenly die like their brother, it was nothing like what Bea faced. Everything she did, everywhere she went, everything she wore was examined and analyzed by a group of media vultures that seemed to have nothing better to do than stalk her night and day, and getting paid generously for it.

And now, her love life, or lack thereof, was going to be broadcast to the entire country, where the whole population of her country would be glued to the television, wondering which of the thirty lucky young men she would choose to be her husband and the presumptive Prince Consort of Solari.

It was nauseating. Bea wanted to gag just thinking about it. She was only seventeen now. The idea of having to pick who she was going to spend the rest of her life with filled her with indescribable anxiety. Having to pick them from a group of thirty _randomly chosen_ young men, in a televised competition? That made it so much worse.

“Why do I even need a partner?” Bea demanded. “This huge responsibility was handed over when Leon died, it's not like I chose to have it. The last thing I need is someone who knows nothing about this life to come help me."

“I think the idea is that it’s stressful to be queen, and you’ll do better with someone who’s always by your side,” Ian said. “But I don't know why they’re making you pick now. It’s not like you're old enough to take the crown.”

“Exactly!” Bea threw up her hands. 

“If it helps, I am sorry.” Ian wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a brotherly hug. “I’d hate to have the tables turned.”  
  


“What would you do? If you were the older twin?”

“I wouldn’t have a Selection, remember?” Ian reminded her. “I already have a girlfriend. Her father's the king of France and is definitely approved by Grandfather, so unless we broke up I wouldn’t need to have one. They’d just set up for me to marry her later on.”

“So I’m being punished because I’m not dating anyone?” Bea asked incredulously. “That’s crazy.”

“The whole thing is kind of crazy,” Ian agreed. “I don’t know why you have to go through this so early. And I really don’t know why they want you married so young.”

“At least I don’t have to get married right at the end of the Selection,” Bea sighed, trying to force herself to find a bright side in the situation at hand. “Just before I turn twenty.”

“Which is still way too early if you ask me,” Ian said. “And it’s not like you can just break up with whatever guy you choose, either.”

“Stupid press.”

“Stupid press,” Ian nodded. “Just because every heir in history has been in a serious relationship or married before twenty doesn’t necessarily mean it’s better that way.”

“I kind of hate Mom and Dad and Leon for dying and leaving all these on me, and the advisors and Grandpa for making me do this,” Bea grumbled. 

“Hey, no,” Ian said. “It’s not Mom and Dad making this decision. You know if it were up to dad, you wouldn’t even date until you were thirty. Mom and Dad could never ask you to do it. If they were here, you know it would tear them up inside.”

Bea just buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t contest that, not really. She knew her mother and father wouldn't have wanted her to do this. They would have wanted her to follow what her heart truly desires, even if that didn’t involve dating thirty guys at once until she found the right fit. But it didn’t mean she hated it any less.

“When are they planning to announce this whole thing?” Ian asked.

“Grandpa said they'll plan as soon as they can, so probably Friday, during the Report.” Bea grimaced. “Then the invitations will be released Saturday morning, two weeks later, the applications will arrive and be sorted out into a smaller pile by the advisors before I randomly pick the names."

“I’m gonna have to entertain them, aren’t I?” Ian realized.

Bea grinned. “Yup, you can mess with them too if you want. And the best part of this whole thing will be watching you intimidate them, all _‘Don’t mess with my sister!_ ’”

“‘ _Please mess with my sister, she needs a social life_ ,’” Ian fired back.

“Hey!” Bea shouted, reaching for a pillow to hit Ian over the head with. Unfortunately, he was quicker and blocked the pillow, making it bounce back into Bea’s face. 

“Nice tr-” he started, but was cut off when Bea smacked him right in the face with the pillow. Feathers sprayed everywhere.

“You’ll pay for that!” he shouted once he’d recovered, and picked up a pillow as well. Bea sprang up from the bed and ran for the closet, hoping to barricade herself inside before Ian reached her. But all too soon, the pillow he was wielding hit her back. She spun around and struck back, landing a blow on his side. He yelped and parried, knocking Bea back.

Quickly strategizing, Bea threw aside her pillow which landed in a puff of feathers on the floor. She reached to the side, to her desk, and picked up two rulers. She threw one to Ian, who caught it in his left hand as he cast his pillow to the side as well.

“En garde!” she yelled, then tucked her left hand behind her back and lunged forward with her ruler as her foil.

“Ack!” Ian yelled, but he barely managed to dodge the incoming attack. He was left-handed, so it was always difficult to fence against him, and their fencing tutor Isa would’ve yelled at them for ruining their technique like this. But neither of them cared, and they blatantly ignored the strict rules of fencing. They ran around the room, Bea trying her best to stab Ian in the gut, and Ian blocking her jabs with every opportunity.

The tide turned, Ian finally having gotten settled with his ruler-turned-foil, and he started going on the offense, pushing Bea back and resetting her progress. She frowned and adjusted her stance, trying her best to knock her brother back into defensive mode. But she couldn’t quite do it, and just as he was about to overpower her and knock the ruler out of her hand, a quiet growl suddenly sounded from her stomach.

Both twins immediately forgot their battle and burst out laughing.

“You definitely missed lunch,” Ian grumbled. “I guess you should eat something.”

"Hold on, I'll call for Grace."

"Don't bother." Her brother waved his hand, lying down on the couch, trying to catch his breath. "She was alerted when you didn't show up at lunch. If I'd known you won't be showing up, I might have just joined you here so I don't have to be around the others. All they talk about is politics, and I don't see why I have to be so knowledgeable about that."

“‘Cause you’re the prince of Solari, doofus. Come on, I’m glad you showed up. You can help me not freak out about this.”

“What, so I get punished for being a good sibling?”

“Hanging out with your cool twin sister isn’t a punishment!”

“Whatever you say, Your Highness,” Ian shot back, a teasing grin on his face, before he opened the door to reveal Bea’s lady’s maid standing outside, pushing a golden cart with plates of meals on it.

“Wow, on top of things as always, Grace,” Bea said, seeing that the girl had already included some extra desserts for Ian along with Bea’s.

“Thank you, Princess.” Grace ducked her head, smiling a little. She pushed the cart into the room, Ian closing the door behind her. Once the prince and princess were sitting in Bea’s breakfast nook with their meals, Grace took in the mess they’d caused from the pillow fight. Her eyes only widened slightly, which Bea thought was impressive control considering just how much down was scattered across the plush carpet.

"Sorry!" Bea mouthed apologetically.

She carefully got to work, picking up the feathers that were big enough and leaving the others to be vacuumed when Bea and Ian weren’t there to be bothered by the sound. She carefully pulled another cart, her maid’s cart waiting just outside, into the room to a place where it wouldn’t block anybody from entering or leaving.

Just as Bea was starting on her salad, a glorious leafy ensemble with her favorite vinaigrette, a large ball of white fluff barrelled into the room, startling Grace into dropping half the feathers she was holding.

“Vizmund!” Bea cried, reaching her arms out for the fluffy Samoyed. He jumped into her arms, licking all over her face as she yelped and tried to push him away.

“Bad dog! My face has to be camera-ready at all times!”

On the other side of the table, Ian was barely concealing a snicker.

“What?” Bea asked, signaling for the dog to calm down. He did so and sat obediently, his wagging tail the only visible sign that he was happy to be with his person.

“I still can’t believe you named that dog _Vizmund_ ,” Ian said. “Who names a dog that? Who names _anything_ that?”

“It’s a cute name,” Bea defended herself, resting her free hand on the dog’s head. “It almost sounds like it could be royal, but it’s a little quirky. Just like him.”

Ian just rolled his eyes and continued with his desserts. Bea’s gaze drifted over to where Grace had just finished rounding up the feathers and was now carefully organizing Bea’s makeup on the vanity.

“What kind of look are we going for tonight at dinner?” Bea asked, and Grace turned to curtsy in deference before answering. She wanted to make sure she wouldn't look like she'd been sulking all day.

“That’s up to you, Your Highness. I have some palettes you can choose from later, if you would like.”

“Damn, I want a live-in beauty guru,” Ian said through a mouthful of food as if he hadn't eaten lunch at all.

“You’re disgusting,” Bea reprimanded him jokingly. “And you could have one if you actually wore makeup, but last time I tried to put anything more than concealer on your face you ran screaming.”

She caught a tiny smile on the corner of Grace's lips at the mention of that. That had been back when the twins were fifteen, and Grace had just started working in the palace and was shadowing Bea's former maid as a trainee. It felt like a thousand years ago.

“I just don’t like how makeup feels on my face,” Ian replied. “But I still want one for fashion and skincare and stuff.”

“Don’t you have Kenny?”

“I mean, yeah, but he doesn’t let me choose stuff. He just leaves it sitting out for me.”

Bea rolled her eyes. “Come on, Ian, just ask him to let you help if you’re that upset about it. There are actual problems in our country besides your disaster of a wardrobe. Besides, it’s not _that_ bad.”

“Touché,” Ian replied, wiping his mouth and moving on from his salad to a small piece of chocolate cake. 

They heard a sneeze followed by a tiny giggle and they realized Vizmund had wandered over to where Grace had been trying to put all the feathers into a basket. The dog tried to sniff into the pile, which brought laughter out of Grace. 

"Awww…" Bea cooed.

"Good boy, Vizmund, making Miss Grace smile like that!" Ian called out. The dog looked up and bounded back over to them.

Grace blushed furiously. She had finished gathering all the feathers and finally stood up. "I'll, uh, fix these up into a new batch of pillows. Just ring me up when you're finished, Your Highness?"

"I will." Bea smiled, knowing she would be calling another maid for that. They already gave Grace another unnecessary thing to do with the whole pillow fight. That girl needed a break. "Thank you, Grace."

The girl curtsied then stepped out the door quietly. 

"She's hands-down the best maid you ever had," Ian said as soon as the two of them were alone. "So much better than that old lady Flora who clucks every time we do anything." 

"I know, right? And it helps that she's close to our age." 

Grace was about a year older than them, just turned eighteen a few months ago and Bea made sure that the palace staff threw her a small party down at the kitchen that she and Ian started. She had never seen the girl so happy before since she arrived at the palace to work. She didn't dare ask about it, but Bea knew Grace had been through a lot just by seeing the sad look in her eyes when they first met. To see how that sadness disappeared piece by piece the longer she stayed there made Bea happy for her. 

Maybe in time, Grace could finally be comfortable enough to share how her life had been outside the palace. In the meantime, Bea would try to be a friend for her.

  
  


  * ••



  
  


"Your Highness." The guards on the hallway bowed their heads as she passed. 

Bea nodded her head to acknowledge them, pressing the thick collar of her cardigan close to her when the late evening breeze blew through the tall windows of the corridor. 

The palace was quiet at that time of the evening. It had been a couple of hours after dinner and almost everyone had settled into their rooms aside from a handful of palace staff and guards starting their night shifts. 

She walked down a few flights of stairs to the kitchen on the sublevels of the palace, and sure enough, the people she was hoping to see were there, gathered around a kitchen island having some tea and chatting amongst themselves.

"Hi," Bea greeted them as she reached the doorway.

Greg, the palace head chef and one of her parent's close friends, looked up from the dough he was working on while his wife Rita and Grace stood abruptly from their seats as if they were caught doing something they shouldn't do. 

Rita sighed in relief when she realized it was her and gave her a soft smile. "Bea!"

"Hello, dear." Greg grinned, forgetting about his dough for a moment. "I was just experimenting on a recipe I saw in this magazine given to me by a good friend of mine." 

"How come we didn't see you all day?" Rita asked, a hint of concern in her voice when she pulled Bea into a motherly hug.

"She was sulking in her room." Grace answered for her.

"Hey!" she protested with a smile. "I wasn't sulking."

"The pout on your face after that meeting you've been in was unmistakable, though."

"I was…" Bea tried to come up with a less worrying answer and failed. "Fine, I wasn't really having a good day."

Greg resumed his wrestling with the dough on the kitchen table but Bea knew he would be listening. Rita led her to a stool between them and went to pour her some hot chocolate which she figured was the same as the one Grace had in her cup. 

"What's on your mind, darling?" Rita slid a mug of hot chocolate across the table.

"Nothing much." Bea took a sip from her hot chocolate and sighed happily. "I just missed you guys." 

"You see me everyday." Grace pointed out.

"I was talking about them." 

"Rude." The older girl pouted, causing her and the adults to smile at their bickering.

Bea turned to the couple. "I like hanging out with you all. I guess having you around is the only normal thing in my life."

Rita smiled softly, and so did Greg. Since the king and queen had died, the two could have gone anywhere they wanted but still they chose to stay and look out for Bea and Ian. Greg had been there through their Dad's childhood, growing up in the palace with him, and the friendship they had was almost brotherly. Rita had been chosen by their Mom to be their private tutor as they grew up, a job she not only did with honor but also with love. 

Then they took in Grace as if she was the daughter they never had. All three of them served as an extended family for Bea and her brother, and also as an escape from the exhausting life they had grown up in.

They all sat around the island in a comfortable silence as they watched Greg finish with his dough and put it into the oven. Bea bit her lip, unable to contain her worries. 

"You've known my parents for a long time," she started. "How did they manage to do their job without going crazy?"

Rita raised her eyebrows, surprised at the hint of frustration that, no doubt, could be heard loud and clear from her tone.

"You think it didn't?" Greg quipped, his smile showing that his mind traveled back to a memory from the past as he spoke. "The kitchen staff know to vacate this place by nine in the evening on a normal day as soon as they finish their tasks. Partly because your father, even back in his bachelor days, would come down here after a long stressful day and the two of us would talk over a bottle of beer. Or two."

This was the first time Bea ever heard that story. Their father wasn't much of a drinker, save from the glasses of wine during parties and special occasions, but she had never seen him drink anything stronger than that. He was always so in control, and she used to think that getting drunk must have been way below his standards. 

"He would tell me about his day, not in full detail, but when you grow up in the palace, you'll come to get familiar with the situations going on around. You have no idea how many times he'd get frustrated or angry." Greg pointed at her head. "He would get that same frown line on his forehead. Sometimes, we didn’t even have to talk. He'd spend the whole time staring down his beer bottle with that infamous Everhart frown."

"So…" Bea looked up from her hot chocolate. "Should I get a beer, or--?"

"No." Rita cut her off. 

"Maybe we can grab some when there's no one around." Grace suggested cheekily.

"No," Rita repeated, shooting them both a stern look. 

"That's not what I mean," Greg chuckled. "I'm saying that your father went through the same frustrations that you might be feeling lately. He wasn't a perfect man, but he wanted what's best for this country so he tried to be just that. He excelled without losing the man I'd always known him to be. It certainly helped when your mother came around. He became a happier man, that's for sure. Alan found just the right woman and suddenly, his job didn’t feel as heavy as it seemed."

"Also, the board of advisors are there for a reason." Rita added. "You just have to make sure you keep the people you trust around you and they'll help lighten up the challenges for you." 

"The advisors don't trust me enough to make any good decisions for now." Bea sulked. "They look at me and see a little girl. Leon would have made a much better heir."

"I'm sure he would have made a good one, but that doesn't mean you can't, too. Or Ian." Grace assured her. "Besides, those advisors are politicians. They're hardass for a living."

Bea smiled at the girl's choice of words. "True. They move so stiffly. How come they don't break their backs at the slightest bend?"

Greg and Rita laughed and the oven beeped, signalling that their pastry is finally done. Greg put on his oven mitts and the sweet smell of butter and cream wafted through the air as soon as the oven was opened. "Here we go…"

Grace clapped and rubbed her hands together, and Bea couldn't help but get excited as well. She was surprised to see he made five of the pastries, and Bea knew that Ian will also have one sent to his room.

Bea wanted to know what they thought about the Selection being planned for her, but she couldn't find a way to tell them about it without triggering the burst of anxiety she got when she thought about the meeting that morning. 

For now, though, as they all ate their pastries at the kitchen island like a normal family, she set those worries behind for a while to enjoy the moment with them.


	3. The Selection

Not even a week after her grandfather and the rest of their board of advisors agreed to put up the Selection for her, Bea was on her way to the studio to tell everyone in the country about it and just how excited she was. 

The thing is, excitement was not how she would describe her feelings as she walked down the hallway to the studio. 

Everyone in the palace was gathered either in the studio or their staff quarters to watch the weekly Report, so the corridors were mostly empty save for a few guards on their stations.

Bea had been stressing about this moment for the last few days, wondering if she would be able to deliver it as confidently and genially as she was taught to all her life, no matter how she felt about the news. The nerves were still there, lurking at the edges, waiting for her to crack one way or another. But Bea refused to show it, even as she walked down the empty corridor. 

She walked with her chin held high. She was the princess after all, the Princess and soon-to-be Queen. Not some high school girl that can be easily intimidated, and definitely not a nervous wreck. 

Nope. 

Bea mentally shook her head, glancing down. A smile crept to her face knowing her most trusted friend is walking by her side through all this. Literally.

Vizmund strutted alongside her, his tail wagging and excitement visible on his face. It had always been like this. She didn’t need an entourage to walk her to the studio to accompany and guard her on her way. Just a girl and her beloved dog.

A bunch of stairs and corridors later, they reached the hallway where the main studio was. The people waiting outside the doors immediately bowed and curtsied at the sight of her. Bea greeted them all. Most of them were people in positions of power at the palace and their families, and one of them was the director leading tonight's Report with his crew.

She lost Vizmund in the midst of all the pleasantries, restless dog that he was, so she excused herself from everyone before he found an innocent cable to chew on. 

Bea entered the studio and was plunged into a flurry of activities. The production and camera crew are running around and double-checking everything. The board of advisors seated on a table on the side are already there, chatting amongst themselves in quiet voices and their grandfather talking to the director, probably giving orders on how he wanted tonight's report to go. 

There were chairs on the side too, about a dozen of them. High-ranking officials, ladies from court, and the newly-appointed General, Frank Walters, are among them. He was a bit young to be in the high position, but the way he carried himself and his loyalty to the crown stopped people from questioning his authority. It also helped that he is a huge man and could look terrifying if he wanted to be. Breaking the serious look on his face, General Walters grinned as soon as he saw Bea, bowing his head. 

Finally, Bea noticed a blur of white fluff on her periphery and spotted Vizmund who was nudging his snout on a set of equipment placed at the back of the room. She rushed to get to him before he could end up toppling the nearby pole, and found one of the studio crew was already with him, a pretty dark-skinned girl with pixie-cut hair and a statuesque figure. 

She was crouching down to scratch behind his ear, and Bea could see how much Vizmund was loving the attention. He was practically vibrating with happiness. 

"Oh God, I'm so sorry about this," Bea approached them, smiling apologetically. "I hope he wasn't causing any trouble."

"Your Highness." The girl stood to her full height, about half a foot taller than her, staring for a second before she smiled and curtsied quickly. "No, he wasn't causing any trouble. Just curious, perhaps."

"Oh, good. He can be really excited sometimes." Bea sighed in relief.

The girl watched her more, with obvious curiosity, as if she knows something about her and was debating about it in her head. Bea decided to brush it off, thinking it was her nerves messing with her head. "Thank you for looking out for him, Miss…?"

"Erin. Erin Ward, Ma'am," the girl said with the same knowing smile. 

"Pleasure to meet you, Erin. No need to call me ma'am. I'm barely older than you."

"Still, it's my honor to meet you, Your Highness."

Bea rolled her eyes jokingly, earning a brighter smile from the other girl. She gasped when she turned to her dog, who had managed to climb on one of the cubes on the corner, and pointed to the floor. "Vizmund, _descende!_ " 

Vizmunds stopped immediately and stepped down upon hearing her command, giving her an innocent smile as if he wasn't really doing anything bad and was really hyped to see her.

Being a big dog, he was about half as tall as Bea was so she didn’t have to stoop to scratch his head. Vizmund went to her side, more than happy to oblige. 

" _Sede_ ," she added. " _Mane_. Be a good boy and sit here, okay? It won't take long."

"I'll look out for him." Erin offered.

"That would be nice, thanks!" 

"Beatrice!" Her grandfather's voice called out and she waved at the two before approaching the old man.

"Are you ready?" he asked in a quiet voice, but the way he said it sounded more like a command. "Keep your smile, Beatrice. You look like you're about to throw up."

"Yes, sir." Bea swallowed the growing lump in her throat, hoping her smile wouldn't waver. 

"Hey, Bea." Ian appeared beside her with an easy smile, easing her nerves a bit then turned to the King Father. "Grandfather."

The producer instructed everyone to settle and take their places. Bea, Ian and their grandfather sat at a separate table on an elevated part of the stage. She looked around at the expectant faces among the audience and just behind the lights and the cameras, Bea spotted Greg, Rita and Grace sitting among the others, smiling supportively at them. Ian must have seen them too and waved. 

The anthem music started playing and everyone stopped whatever they were doing to pay their respects to the national song. Maybe every citizen of Solari who was now sitting in front of their televisions to watch the weekly Report did the same.

Bea took this time to gather her composure. She took deep calming breaths and once in a while, she would look among the audience at Greg and Rita to see their gentle supportive smiles. 

The King Father and current Regent, their grandfather Theodore, walked to the podium and started his weekly update on the status of the country and the rebel movements in the shadows. He assured the citizens that the palace was hard at work on securing the palace and rest of the country from the hostile rebel attacks, and more infrastructure was being built in certain cities that would offer a great deal of opportunities to the people of Solari. 

The advisors took their turns one by one, each of them had their own announcements regarding the department they were running. By the end of it all, Bea was just fighting the urge to let out a yawn. She was never fond of this part of the Report, but it was the point of the whole thing, to let their people know what was happening in their country. Or at least to let them know what they were allowed to know. It was her responsibility to listen to every word, no matter how distracted she got.

She couldn't help but dread the time that it would be her turn to deliver such _boring_ announcements, and wondered if there was a way to make them even a bit more tolerable to listen to. 

Many of the announcements led back to the rebels, as if they were somehow tied to everything going on in the country. The whole rebel movement had become quite a nuisance, the bump that slows the country from reaching certain goals. And what was worse, no one even truly knew what they wanted.

Soon enough, the updates ended and she could see the audience finally straighten up in their seats. Everyone in the studio applauded as a very familiar, very charming man stepped onto the stage after the Master of Ceremonies called his name, dressed in his usual fine suit and blessing everyone with his handsome smile. 

"Yes, yes! Good evening, everyone!" Carson Stewart waved at the audience before turning to the head table. "And greetings, Your Majesty, sir! To our lovely Princess Beatrice!" The man gestured grandly her way with a pleasant smile and bowed his head at Ian. "Prince Ian."

"Good to see you, Carson." Their grandfather replied, a smile on his face. 

"I heard there is a surprise announcement tonight, sir?"

"You heard it right, and there's no one better to bring this exciting news to our people than my own granddaughter, Beatrice."

"Oh, my." Carson grinned, rubbing his palms together to show his excitement. "This we have to see, everyone!"

Bea took that as her cue to go. Before she stood, Ian found her hand under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. She smiled back, then carefully made her way to the carpeted stage. 

"Hello, Carson."

"Princess Beatrice," Carson kissed her cheek in greeting, then stood close by. "The floor is yours."

"Thank you." Bea steeled herself and gave everyone the confident smile she had been mastering all her life. "For the last two years, our beloved country has gone through several layers of changes that no one would have known will come, changes that will surely be written in our history forever. We've been suffering from these attacks, we fell, but every time those challenges come, our great country always finds a way to thrive and grow despite the obstacles we have faced. For better or for worse, among those changes were some that altered my life forever, giving way to a brand new path that I have been preparing to take for the last two years of my life. The tragic deaths of my parents, King Alan and Queen Faith, and my brother Prince Leon." 

Bea swallowed, praying to God that the next words she said wouldn't be accompanied by tears. 

"If this night happened two years ago, a different heir would be standing before you, my dear late brother Leon. A passionate, kind and a very wise young man. I've always looked up to him. I still do, to this very day. And I will honor his dreams, as well as my parents', and I will dedicate myself in pursuing what will be best for our country."

The audience let out a round of applause, giving her just the pause she needed. "As it happens, I was offered an opportunity to take the first steps-- the first of many steps-- toward following the same path of those leaders who came before. It is customary for every heir to the throne of Solari to undergo a crucial and, frankly, quite daunting, stage where we have to search for that one special person who will be willing to be a partner and a companion, that will be by my side during such a demanding job. So to do that… I, Princess Beatrice Cornelia Genevieve Louisa Everhart of Solari, wish to have a Selection."

The audience gasped in unison. Bea looked over at Greg, Rita and Grace, whose faces were suddenly struck with horror, in contrast to the excitement that everyone in the studio was expressing. The crowd started talking and murmuring to each other, some nodded in agreement and among the board of advisors, Mr. Crandall and the others looked so pleased with themselves for putting the idea on the table. 

The excitement died down soon enough as Carson told everyone to settle down, and Bea continued with a smile. "Tomorrow morning, the letters will be sent all over the country to all the eligible young men of Solari. Two weeks will be given for them to decide if they're willing to take a chance for my hand and the job that comes with me. I know this is new to our country too, being the first female heir, the Selection this year will be the first one to be led by a woman. Still, I am looking forward to seeing how it goes and I hope you will all be with me as I go through this stage of my life. That is all, thank you and good evening."

Another round of applause erupted in the studio and Carson grinned on her side, no doubt excited that there will be some new interesting topics to talk about during the Reports rather than the weekly political updates. 

Bea curtsied in front of the stage before making her way back to her seat, passing her grandfather who looked satisfied for once, then sat beside her brother. 

"Did you hear that?" Carson asked, to no one in particular. "The months to come will surely be eventful for our princess. As she said earlier, you have two weeks to think about this, boys. Do you think…" He looked intently at one of the cameras. "Do you think you have what it takes to stand and be with our beautiful Future Queen?"

Carson ended the segment with his charming smile as the credits rolled, and everyone got up from their seats, gathering their belongings. 

Bea’s legs felt wobbly, but Ian somehow knew and he took her arm and looped it around his own. Her brother shot her a smile and she couldn't help but return it. As the crowd headed for the door, they stayed for a bit to say goodnight to a bunch of people and receive their congratulations on a successful Report this week. 

Their grandfather didn't wait for everyone to leave and walked ahead. Ian whistled and Vizmund's head popped up. " _Veni_ , Vizmund!"

The white dog bounded over, leaving behind the girl from earlier, Erin, who was watching them with a knowing smile on her face. 

  
  


  * ••



  
  


"Oh, honey!" Rita pulled her into a hug as she and Ian walked into the kitchen late that evening. "Is that what you've been so stressed about the last few days?"

Bea couldn't help but pout as she nodded.

"Man, that was a shocker." Grace sighed, not in the mood to tease.

"What happened?" Greg asked, his frown conveying the concern he must have been feeling since the Report a couple hours ago. He poured some tea into two cups for them. "This isn't supposed to happen. I thought Alan made sure of that."

"Dad is no longer here to decide that." Ian spoke for the first time. 

"As I said before, the advisors are making most of the decisions lately. With my grandfather's approval, of course."

Grace shook her head disapprovingly. "They just don't trust a woman to run the country, do they?" 

"It's crazy." Ian let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry I wasn't here the last time, I had an important phone call to attend to."

"You mean your girlfriend." Bea said in a mocking tone. "They met at a party and suddenly he has his first girlfriend."

Despite the heavy feeling brought by the Selection announcement, the last sentence brought smiles to their faces.

"They should have just put you up to it! You… you enjoy flirting with strangers. How am I supposed to have a proper conversation when I know nothing about them?"

"Well, excuse me if I was born three minutes after you!" Ian mocked. 

Bea rolled her eyes and sipped at her own cup. "Ugh. This is hell."

"I'm so sorry, sweetie." Rita wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Your parents used to tell us how they wanted their children, you, to marry someday for love. You have to believe they wouldn't wish this on you."

"I know," she sighed heavily. "I know that. I just wish it's different, you know?"

"I get you," Grace sympathized. "I mean not _get_ you, but I see how this is all messing you up."

"What if they smell? Or...or have some terrible hygiene?" 

"I'm sure your grandfather wouldn't choose a young man like that, he's a very meticulous man," Greg said, then added in a slightly quieter tone with a frown, "It's the least he could do for forcing this one to his own granddaughter."

"We will be here for you, honey," Rita assured.

Grace reached out to give her hand a squeeze. "Yeah, they'll have to deal with me if they so much as hurt or touch a piece of your hair."

"Whoa, slow down, Rambo." Ian whistled. "Unfortunately for you, nobody can hurt them without getting punished. They're considered _property_ of this country."

"Can you believe that?"

A set of quick footsteps echoed on the marble floor leading to the kitchen and Bea saw Vizmund's white fluff enter the chamber, making a bee line for her. "Vizmund!"

"Hey, boy!" Grace's face lit up as well, reaching down to ruffle his fur. 

The dog’s entrance managed to lighten up the sour mood of the evening, and the five of them continued to talk for at least an hour longer before Greg insisted they should go to bed. 

He was right.

The preparations for the Selection would be starting early in the morning and Bea, being the spearhead of this whole thing, had to be present every minute of it. 

  
  


  * ••



As soon as Bea, Vizmund and Ian left, the mood in the kitchen became sour again.

“I can’t believe the King Father would agree to this,” Rita said. “Alan specifically said that he wanted his children to marry for love. I know it would just break his heart if he could see Bea being forced through this.”

Grace agreed. “It’s horrible,” she said. She and Bea were just starting to get close. For the first year of working in the palace, Grace had closed herself off to any kindness exhibited by the young heir. But as Greg and Rita brought her into the fold of palace life more and more, Grace started to soften up. She’d seen how much all the servants adored Bea, even beyond how a servant was supposed to be devoted to their master. 

Bea was a positive force of energy when Grace was trapped in negativity, and though she knew she was still too closed-off for the bubbly princess, she was slowly opening up. She was hoping they could grow to be close friends, but it was going to take time for Grace to figure out how to be open emotionally again.

“I hope the boys are handsome, at least,” she added for a measure of good humor, and Rita smiled and shook her head.

“Young women are all the same, caught up in good looks instead of the stuff that really matters.”

“Looks matter,” Grace argued. 

“But not as much as you think they do. Look at my husband,” Rita joked, gesturing to Greg who immediately looked offended.

“Oh no, you didn’t just say that!” he gasped, faking anger. Rita faked fear, but skillfully dodged the dish towel he threw at her. She caught it instead, winding it up and smacking Greg with it. They both laughed, and Grace joined in as she watched.

“And you!” Greg turned to Grace. “Just sitting there! An accomplice to her slander. You’ll pay for that!”

Grace squeaked as Greg dipped his fingers in a bowl of flour and flicked it at her face. White powder stuck to the ends of her brown hair.

“Look, I have highlights!” she said, showing off to Rita. Both the adults laughed more, only stopping when Grace took advantage of their lack of focus to lob a fistful of flour in Greg’s direction. It stuck all over his dark skin like powder clown makeup, and when he stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes pretending to be killed by the flour attack, it just made Grace laugh harder.

Was this family? Grace pondered the question later, using a wet washcloth to get the remaining flour out of her hair. She felt safer in the palace than anywhere else, even despite the occasional rebel attacks. She couldn’t complain when it had been so much worse before. As much as the loss of the King, Queen and their eldest son had shaken the staff, Grace had been able to compartmentalize it. She’d seen worse, and she hadn’t known them for very long. Her strongest feelings of sorrow were directed toward Bea. Even when they hadn’t been close, seeing the younger girl grieving had hurt her heart.

She felt a sort of protective instinct over Bea as their friendship developed, and at times she even felt like an older sister. But Bea was a princess, and Grace was a Six that had been saved from a much worse fate. They couldn’t truly be equals, so they couldn’t really be family.

There were things that felt like family, though. How Grace was included in the prince and princess’ inside jokes. How Bea gave Grace a place of honor at events, how Bea and Ian had thrown her that eighteenth birthday party even though she’d barely been working at the palace for three months. How Bea had immediately seen Grace and had wanted a friend so badly that she gave her the most coveted servants’ position in the palace: the princess’ lady’s maid. 

So for Bea; for all her kindness and optimism and strength even with everything she’d been through, Grace had resolved to try. She would try to heal her own broken heart to help Bea put hers back together too. And over the two years since, Grace knew she had become Bea’s closest friend besides her twin. 

And now Bea needed her more than ever. Grace made a promise to herself, that she would show up for Bea the way the princess had shown up for her.

***

"Good morning, Your Highness." 

"Maria!" Bea looked up from her plate when she heard the older girl enter the dining room. "Good morning, come join us."

"Oh, thank you, Your Highness. But I will have to say no--,”

"You're going to join us," Bea insisted with a smile.

Maria looked from her to Ian with a critical look on her face and Bea could see she was calculating in her mind whether it was rude to turn down an invitation from the princess or just inappropriate to join them. Their grandfather had headed to the study after he finished his coffee. Ian, who was busy devouring his pancakes as civilized and princely as he can, wasn't paying enough attention to care. Bea didn’t mind a bit, and for her, they might as well be more acquainted if they would be working closely together through all the events to come. 

Maria Flores appeared to be a very serious lady, dressed in formal business attire from top to bottom. Even the look on her face had the word _smart_ all over it. The palace hired only the best and the nineteen-year-old fresh graduate from the Everhart University for Cultural Arts was one of the few handpicked students who were granted an opportunity to work in the palace a couple months ago. She would be overlooking all the planning and every event that had to do with the Selection, and Bea knew that the girl was up to proving she was worthy of the trust and honor the palace had given her.

One of the butlers walked over and prepared a new set of plates and cutlery for her, and Bea watched with admiration how Maria seemed to move in a well-mannered and controlled way, as if she had been living in the palace all her life. 

"Thank you for having me, Your Highness." Maria said as soon as the maids finished preparing her breakfast. "I was hoping we could get started right away since we will be having such a tight schedule with the Selection being so sudden."

"We will be, I assure you." Bea gave her a smile. "And please, call me Bea. It will be tiring if you keep addressing me like that all the time." 

"Right, ma’am." She seemed to test it in her mouth. "Bea."

"Good." 

They ate in silence for a bit, only the sound of plates and cutleries to be heard. Bea had been trying to enjoy the silence as long as she could because soon, there would be thirty boys coming over to disturb the peace and quiet of these halls. 

"So," Maria started again once they were finishing their plates. "Is there a place where we could be working on the planning?"

"How about that parlor on the second floor?" Ian suddenly joined in. "The first hallway in the south wing?" 

"Oh, good idea!" Bea agreed after she managed to remember where that parlor might be. A bright chamber with tall windows and a fantastic view of Lake Berry that sat on the far end of the palace grounds. "We can head there right away."

"Preferably," Maria nodded. 

After breakfast, Ian excused himself and they went off to separate ways. She and Maria headed upstairs, a couple of maids trailing behind them. As soon as the doors opened, Bea knew she made a good choice just by the look of approval in Maria's eyes. The girl immediately set a pile of folders and pictures on the table in the middle of the room, motioning for her to take a seat. "Alright, Bea, we should begin with the easiest part… The suitors’ rooms." 

Hours and hours went by. Maria summoned more and more people into the room, some brought pictures and some brought actual samples of whatever Maria had requested from them.

In the afternoon, a group from the press sent in a cameraman and-- much to Bea's surprise-- the same girl from the Report the night before, Erin. 

"You again," Bea greeted, pleasantly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Your Highness." Erin curtsied and her cameraman bowed. "We were sent over to capture the preparation. If you don't mind."

"No, no. I don't. I just hope I still look camera worthy after Maria and I worked all day."

"Believe me, Your Highness, you look amazing." The girl promised. 

The cameraman made a sweep around the room, even went by the window to capture the view of the lake before he turned back to the scene in the parlor. 

Erin recorded the scenes from her own table set up on the corner. "We're just here for the footage. You can pretend we're not here."

Maria happily obliged. She went back to planning mode within seconds. The huge round table was now covered in random materials and papers. 

With the snack table set up by the windows, Bea barely noticed the time. They worked through lunch, and she only realized it was four in the afternoon when Grace sauntered through the doors.

"Your Highness," Grace stopped in front of her and curtsied. "The King Father requires your presence in the study." 

"Oh?" Bea raised an eyebrow, horrified for a moment thinking she might have done something to anger her grandfather again. "What about?"

"He didn't say, my lady."

Maria checked her watch. It was only four in the afternoon. Her face didn’t show anything, but Bea could see the reluctance on the way she was frowning. "I suppose we can wrap this up for the day?"

"His Majesty says it was urgent," Grace pressed.

Maria looked from Grace to Bea, thinking. "We'll resume tomorrow morning at nine. Until then, I'll see you tomorrow, Your Highness."

"YES." Bea almost cried in joy, looking up the ceiling with a grin. "Sweeeet freedom!"

Maria, Erin, and everyone else in the room were staring at her when she looked around, baffled by her unladylike manners. Only Grace had a smirk on her face. 

_Oops. Did I just say that out loud?_

"As I was saying," Bea gave everyone a sheepish smile and stood. "We did some good work today. I'll see you all tomorrow."

The group eventually recovered from the shock. The ladies curtsied and Bea smiled pleasantly before she left. She could swear that she saw a hint of a smile on Maria's face before she stepped out of the room… almost. 

They were a couple of hallways away from the parlor when Grace finally spoke. "Your inside voices are getting louder sometimes, you know?"

"Shush! Not a word about it, lady!" Bea waved her off, noting the teasing tone in her friend’s voice. 

"Hm-mhm." Grace hummed.

"Ugh, I'm soooo tired, Grace." She flexed her shoulders, which were feeling stiff and achy. "My head feels like it was going to explode."

"I thought so. I would have come sooner if it wasn't so obvious."

"And there's still that thing with my grandfather." Bea lamented. "What does he want now?"

"Nothing." 

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, looking at the other girl with confusion. "What do you mean _nothing_?" 

Grace shrugged, but the mischief wasn't lost in her gesture. "What could he possibly want from you this late in the afternoon?"

"You’re sneaky… " Bea shook her head and they giggled as they continued on their way, joking around with their laughter echoing down the hallway.

That is until they came across a red-haired woman they had grown familiar with. Bea fixed her expression into a guarded one immediately. "Lady Crandall."

Loretta Crandall dropped into a small but graceful curtsy. "Princess, how lovely to see you."

"How are you, my lady?" Bea asked, not sure what to do. She could see Grace fidget quietly from the corner of her vision.

"It's always good to be here," the woman replied, her smile not failing to make Bea uncomfortable.

Lady Crandall, along with the families of the members of the advisory board, were welcome to stay in the palace indefinitely as guests. All of them were Twos and mostly came from prominent families of Solari. 

Rodger Crandall, the Duke of Lakedon, was fairly new on the board, only elected when Bea and Ian were just twelve years olds. Rumor has it that the Crandall Manor in their hometown in Lakedon can rival a small castle on its own, and that their family amassed their wealth through inheriting old money and the fast growing of their businesses. That is before Rodger Crandall entered politics, which came easily for them.

Loretta only came to the palace occasionally, staying for a few weeks before flying back to their province. Whether or not the couple had kids was still a mystery to everyone. 

One thing was for sure, Bea wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable around them. The staff would usually complain about how the couple would treat them, but nobody can really do anything about it. 

"I hope you are looking forward to the Selection?"

_Huh?_ Bea raised her eyebrows, confused. "I...am."

"I'm sure you are," Mrs. Crandall agreed. "It's such a big and important step in your life and this kingdom." 

"I suppose." Bea forced a smile on her face.

"You have a good evening, Princess Beatrice," the woman finally said. 

"You have a good evening, my lady." She dipped her head as Lady Crandall curtsied before continuing her way. 

She and Grace watched Mrs. Crandall walk away, exchanging awkward glances. 

“Didn’t you say her husband was the one who brought up the Selection?” Grace asked.

“Yeah,” Bea replied, “But I’m not sure what’s in it for them.”

“Maybe they have a son they want to enter,” Grace suggested. 

“I would think we’d have heard of him by now,” Bea laughed. “That’s not it, but I'm not sure if I even want to know what _their_ son would be like. You've seen how they are."

Grace must have been trying to visualize what a Crandall boy would be like as she stared into the distance, wrinkling her nose. "Yeah, no. Crandall boy is already cancelled if there is one." 

Bea laughed again, then took Grace’s arm as they continued to march down the halls of the palace, further and further away from where anyone could spot them and yell at them to get back to work.

“What’s your dream guy like?” Bea asked, suddenly. Grace hesitated, biting her lip.

“I don’t care what he looks like… but I guess I kind of have a soft spot for nerds. My dream guy would be super smart, kind of socially awkward, and serious but nice and light-hearted with me. You know what I mean?”

Bea nodded. “It’s nice to feel like you’re special, whether it’s with a friend or in dating, I guess. But if you had to pick, Grace, what would your dream guy look like?”

Grace just shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter to me. Why, what would yours look like?”

Bea had to think for a second. “Striking. Not necessarily handsome, but just… interesting, you know?”

Grace nodded. “Piercing eyes and one of those square jaws.”

Bea giggled. “Freckles and a scar on his lips.”

Grace whistled, and then nearly doubled over laughing. “Well, I guess we’ll get to see them soon,” she said, steering them back toward Bea’s room. Maria and the others would have left by then, and Bea could start getting ready for dinner, which no doubt included an inquisition from her grandfather about the preparations made so far.

“We will,” Bea said, and for the first time, she felt a knot in her chest loosen. Laughing with her best friend in the familiar halls of her palace, she remembered that she had control. Nobody was going to force her to immediately fall in love with the guys who came for the Selection, and nobody was going to tell her who to choose. Except maybe Grace, and Bea knew to take the older girl’s teasing advice with a grain of salt sometimes.

“Back to your rooms, Princess?” Grace asked, and the pair headed back towards the rooms to prep for dinner and the weeks ahead.

***

The days went by, and Bea felt like she was in a dream state for the entire two weeks. The letters had been sent out, and they told Bea that thousands of young men across Solari had already applied. The statistic made her stomach hurt. _Thousands?_ Bea couldn’t imagine that she could be the object of so many boys’ affection. 

“They probably just want the crown,” Grace reasoned when Bea paced her bedroom nightly, wondering how she was going to manage thirty guys trying to win her heart when she’d never even flirted with one before.

“Great, so they don’t even want me,” Bea sighed, then flopped on her bed next to Grace.

“You’re confusing,” Grace concluded. “You don’t want the attention, but you want them to like you?”

“I don’t want this to be happening in the first place!” Bea said. “I get that it’s for the greater good, and it’s tradition, and yeah I was hardly going to be able to find a husband otherwise, but it’s still freaking me out. I don’t want to share my home with a bunch of strangers.”

Grace cocked her head, trying to figure out how to comfort Bea. 

“Tell you what,” Grace said. “I’ll stand there with you when you first meet the guys. And you have to tell me what you think afterwards.”

“That’s a given,” Bea remarked, although she did feel a little more comfortable hearing those words. 

“And if it’s too much, you’re always welcome in the kitchens. Plus, I’ll always be there when you’re with the guys, except if you want to be alone. I can distract them if you need to get away, or I can pretend the King Father needs you for something.”

Bea looked up, smiling. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course!” Grace said, looking a little surprised that Bea thought she wouldn’t. “And if I wasn’t doing it for you, I’d do it so I got a chance to check out all the hot guys.”

As Bea got ready for bed, Grace neatly folded her clothes to be worn the next morning. A little more ease washed over her. It really was going to be alright.

***

Finally, the last of the preparations was done. All the boys’ rooms were decorated, additional staff had been hired to provide a personal servant for each one, and the newly refurbished Gentlemen’s Parlor had been decorated and prepared for the boys’ imminent arrival on Monday. All that was left for today was to read the names on the most interesting _Report_ in two decades.

Bea squared her shoulders and stared at herself down in the mirror. She had been shaking with nerves, and Grace had insisted that it wasn’t something that a little makeup and beautiful clothes couldn’t cure. So Bea wore one of her favorite gowns of all time. It wasn’t as flashy or frilly as some of her ball gowns, but the dark blue floor-length gown, with a sweetheart neckline that hit right at her collarbone and thick straps on her shoulders, fit her like a glove. It was made of silk, and Bea ran her hands down it as Grace wound one last strand of her hair around a curling iron.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” Grace said, noticing the way Bea was studying herself in the mirror. “I did your makeup, so I would know.”

Bea tried to laugh at Grace’s attempt at joking with her, but she was too stressed. Releasing Bea’s blonde curl from the iron and carefully brushing it out, Grace looked at Bea through the mirror.

“I mean it,” she said. “Any guy who got you would be incredibly lucky. Just look at yourself.”

Bea reexamined her reflection. She knew Grace was right. The eyeliner was carefully applied to make her eyes seem larger, but with a light enough hand to preserve her youthful look. The blush was heavy enough to not make her seem washed out under the studio lights, and the lipstick was her favorite shade of pink.

Grace carefully selected a navy blue ribbon that matched Bea’s dress and gathered the curls that framed her face, tying them back. That exposed Bea’s ears, adorned with her favorite earrings, cubic diamonds held in place with a golden post. Her necklace, a low-key addition, matched the look with pearls on a golden thread.

“I look like a princess,” Bea admitted, half to Grace and half to herself.

“You look like a queen,” Grace corrected her. “So, your Majesty, shall we?”

Bea knew it was a joke, but the title didn’t sit right with her. Even if she was the heir to the throne of Solari, even if she would be Queen in just a few short months on her eighteenth birthday, she felt like the title was a lifetime away.

“Don’t,” she said softly, and Grace understood. The older girl withdrew, standing behind Bea, ready to lead her to the studio.

Vizmund circled around Bea as she stood, pushing his nose into her hand.

“Aw, buddy,” Bea cooed, leaning down to scratch behind his ears. She turned to address Grace. “I’m kind of worried he’ll get fur on my dress.”

Grace ran her hand through Vizmund’s thick coat. “I groomed and bathed him a few hours ago, he should be fine from a shedding standpoint.”

“Good,” Bea said, leaning down to plant a kiss on Vizmund’s forehead. “Alright, I’ve got my squad behind me, let’s go.”

Grace grinned, and she and Vizmund flanked Bea as they walked down the hall to the studio.

***

Her grandfather cornered her outside of the studio. Grace made to stay behind with Bea, but with one look from the King Father she curtsied and led Vizmund into the studio.

“What is it, Grandfather?” Bea asked, a little scared.

“I just wanted to tell you this so you didn’t find out on live television and ruin everything,” he said, trying to look authoritative, but Bea could see a few new stress lines on his face.

“Did something happen?”

“The advisors and I have… narrowed down the candidates from each province to just ten apiece. We had to do this to shield you from bad applications and to ensure the candidates were presentable on television and worthy of being in the caste. You understand.”

It was more of a statement, and yes, Bea understood exactly. “No Sixes, Sevens or Eights,” her Grandfather was saying implicitly. “No ugly young men, nobody from a bad family.”

She didn’t like it at all, but she understood. She bowed her head politely. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” the King Father said. “Now come, it’s time to go.

Bea and the King Father sat stiffly side-by-side on the chairs set out for them. Carson bowed at them, then went back to fixing his hair in a small mirror.

“And we’re on in 3… 2… 1…” said the director, and then Carson broke into a winning smile.

“Good evening, Solari, and welcome to tonight’s _Capital Report_.”

The first part of the _Report_ was as boring as usual, but the audience was visibly restless, and so was Carson. The King Father’s droning voice was met with more exasperation from their host than was strictly appropriate, and Bea had no doubt that Carson would hear about it later, but she understood. She was actually kind of excited about seeing the names and pictures of the men who would be trying to win her heart.

Finally, after too many long minutes of her grandfather going on and on about the rebels and the economy, Carson finally turned to Bea with a huge grin.

“Your Highness, I think it’s time to get to the part of the night that we’ve all been waiting for.” He turned to address the audience and the camera. “Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, the Princess will choose from ten randomly selected envelopes representing ten worthy gentlemen from each of the thirty provinces in Solari.”

Bea had to hide her eye roll at that. She knew full well that at least some of the envelopes in there had been specifically hand-picked by her grandfather.

“These thirty selected young men will go on to be the most honorable Sons of Solari, and will vy for Princess Beatrice’s heart and the privilege to stand by her side as Prince Consort when she ascends to her title.”

The audience applauded, and Bea suppressed a laugh as Grace whooped and was quickly shushed by Greg and Rita.

“Shall we, Your Highness?”

“I would be honored, Carson,” Bea said with a smile. As soon as she finished speaking, thirty servants wheeled out thirty pedestals, each with a glass bowl on top of it. Each bowl was labeled with the name of a province, and the promised ten envelopes sat innocently in the bowls. Bea already knew what to do: in alphabetical order, starting with Allens, she would pick an envelope, read the name and the caste number on the envelope, and then hand it to Carson, who would hold it up to the camera and then set it in a box beside the stage.

After the report was over, Bea would bring the box back to her rooms, and she and Grace would spend the night poring over the men who would be in the palace on Monday. Bea wasn’t required to meet them that day, as they would spend most of the day traveling, being made over, being interviewed, and settling into their new quarters. But come Tuesday morning, she, her head of security, Ian, and Grace would officially greet them. After that, it was up to her.

Bea stood and made her way over to the first bowl, labeled “Allens”. Hyper-aware of all the eyes on her, both the live ones in the audience and the millions watching on their televisions at home, she reached inside the bowl and picked up one of the envelopes.

“From Allens,” she read, “Aiden Zhou, Five.”

A Five. Interesting. This must not have been one of the ones that her grandfather had picked. Still smiling politely, Bea handed the envelope to Carson. She knew that images of the boys would be edited into the show as she chose them.

“From Angeles,” she said, waiting for the next bowl to be pushed towards her as the audience cheered for their home province, the capital province of Solari. She reached into the bowl and picked out an envelope. When she read the name on it, she couldn’t hold back her smile.

“Rory Silva, Four.”

Rory Silva was one of Bea’s rare childhood friends. His family were jewelers, and Bea’s parents had favored them as the official royal jewelers. After their deaths, though, the King Father hadn’t kept nearly as close contact with the Silvas. Bea knew that Rory’s mom had been struggling with some kind of illness around the same year that Queen Faith and King Alan had died, but she hadn’t spoken directly to Rory since. It would be nice to have a familiar face in the Selection.

Still grinning, Bea handed off the envelope. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her grandfather glaring at her. Her expression immediately dropped. She knew exactly what he’d be saying: she couldn’t show preference this early to any of the Selected. Especially not if he wasn’t one that her grandfather had picked.

_Whatever,_ she thought, then focused on the next bowl. She didn’t recognize any more of the names.

“From Atlin, David Baxter, Three. From Baffin, Zac Cole, Two.”

Lucas Thomas. Jordan Lee. Daniel Pierce. Gabriel Hart. Ajay Bhandari, Michael Harrison, Max Warren, Noah Harris, Trevor Watts, Dakota Winchester. Nothing of note so far. She didn’t recognize any of the names except for Max Warren. His family were all celebrities, and Bea knew her grandfather had stepped in to save their reputation at times when it had been challenged. She’d never actually met Max, though, and she hoped he was nice.

Finally, the Lakedon bowl was pushed in front of her, and Bea paid a little more attention. This was the Crandalls’ home province, and she was interested to see what their reaction would be when she picked the young man from Lakedon. She kept an eye on the couple, sitting in the audience, as she pulled the envelope out of the bowl.

“From Lakedon, Brian Nicholas Crandall, Two.”

The Crandalls smiled at each other. Bea was shocked. So they did have a son, and they had entered him for the Selection. Then why had Bea never met him? Why hadn’t they even been told that he existed? The members of the board always bring their families over during parties and special events, some even stayed for long periods of time as guests but never them. _Why?_

She frowned down at the envelope, knowing that she was drawing too much attention to the name, but she couldn’t help herself. _Brian Crandall_. This must have been one of the names her grandfather had picked.

As she finally handed the envelope to Carson, she sighed. She really, really hoped that the Crandall boy was nothing like his parents.

She shook her head. She had to get back to business. Caleb Mitchell was the next name she picked, then Robert Sutcliffe, Clint Callaghan, Mason Jennings, and Andy Kang.

Frankly, she was surprised at the number of Fours and below in her Selection. She hadn’t expected the King Father to have allowed so many “commoners”, as he referred to them, into the mix. But she’d seen his hand-selection perfectly clearly with Brian Crandall and Max Warren, and she was sure the other Twos and Threes had been carefully picked out for her as well. He’d probably just thrown in all the Fours and Fives to allay suspicion that there was any tampering going on. Bea knew that if he could, her grandfather would have picked only Twos for her Selection. But as promised, there were no entrants below a Five.

Carson wrapped up the show by presenting Bea with the box, and then the cameras died.

“Finish preparing for their arrival,” her grandfather whispered in her ear. “No public appearances, not even going out to the grounds, until after you meet them. I’m trusting you not to mess this up.”

From the way he stared into her eyes, Bea felt like it was less trust and more of a threat, but she nodded anyways.

Finally, after dodging the smiling Crandalls and the reporters with their cameras begging to know what she thought, she almost broke into a run trying to get back to her rooms, still holding the box.

Once she got there, she saw Vizmund spread out on her bed and Grace already setting out her night clothes.

“So,” Grace said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Is that them?”

Bea nodded, happy that the other girl was excited. “Here, help me get all this makeup off and get into my nightgown, then we can check them out?”

A few minutes later, both girls were in nightgowns and robes, spread out across Bea’s floor with all the enveloped, Vizmund curled up next to them.

“It’s my day off tomorrow,” Grace said. “So I can give you company all day if you want."

“Good,” Bea said. “Grandfather has essentially imprisoned me in this wing for the weekend, so it’ll be nice to have companionship.”

Grace nodded. “It will. And it’ll give me a chance to raid your closet.”

Bea laughed and reached for the first envelope to catch her eye. Brian Crandall’s. She held it up.

“You wanna see what the Crandall spawn looks like?”

Grace giggled. “Didn’t we already decide he was canceled?”

“Well, yeah, but don’t you at least want to see him?”

Grace grabbed at the envelope, but Bea held it out of her reach and managed to get it open first. The picture of him was the first thing she saw. He had bright red hair and piercing blue eyes, freckles all over his face, but the most noticeable thing about him was his cocky grin. It immediately made Bea recoil. She handed the picture to Grace, who grimaced.

“He wouldn’t be bad looking if it weren’t for that grin,” she said. “But that thing just messes it up. He looks way too confident.”

“Right?” Bea mused. “Under skills, it says he plays sports and is in college for business. Maybe he and Ian will get along.”

“Maybe,” Grace said. “How many languages does he speak?”

“English, Spanish, French, German, and Italian,” Bea noted. “Very impressive.”

“Well, he is a two,” Grace said. “He probably has the best tutors other than Rita.”

“Rita’s the best tutor this world has ever seen,” Bea agreed. 

Grace reached next for the envelope labeled _Rory Silva_. “I saw you smile when you picked this one,” she teased. “What’s the story there?”

“Rory’s family were the royal jewelers before my parents died,” Bea explained. “We spent most of our childhood together.”

Grace opened the envelope and took the picture out. “Okay, he’s gorgeous,” Grace noted, examining the image of the smiling young man. 

Bea took the picture and looked at it. Rory had definitely grown into his features. All the things that had made him look awkward as a kid made him handsome as a young man, like they were perfectly designed to fit him. His smile had always been able to make her melt, and that hadn’t changed.

“I had a bit of a crush on him when we were younger,” Bea admitted. “I don’t think he ever knew.”

Grace raised her eyebrows. “Wow. He must feel some way for you, too, or he wouldn’t have applied for the Selection.”

“I don’t know about that, his family could probably use the money. I think his mom’s sick.”

Grace shrugged. “Regardless, you’ll get the chance to win him over again, if you want.”

“Maybe,” Bea smiled. “Okay, let’s look at some of the other guys.”

Grace held up three envelopes. “Alright, which do you want first? Aiden, Mason, or Max?”

“Give me Max,” Bea said. “I’ve heard of him before.”

The two girls stayed up into the early hours of the morning, getting to know the Selected and quizzing each other about the boys’ hobbies and castes. And even though Bea knew that come Monday, her world would be turned upside down by the arrival of the thirty Selected, she stayed in the moment, laughing with her best friend and preparing to get to know the guys when they came.


	4. Thirty Suitors

The weekend after the names were finally picked, Bea dreaded having to do more work, but she was let off easy. Her grandfather let her take a few days off before the suitors would arrive.

Maria and her team of organizers didn't waste time on sorting out what the boys would need from that point on. Respective rooms and staff assignments, flight schedules, their wardrobe and down to their nutritional needs have been discussed. While their team at the palace worked, Maria had agents sent all over the country to meet and deal with the Selected, their papers signed and deals closed.

Bea, on the other hand, stayed mostly in her room in her pajamas and sweaters to escape from the hype brought upon by the Selection. The hallways seemed louder than before and there were double the staff than she was used to. Even the newspapers talked about nothing but the suitors: 

**Who will be the new Prince Consort of Solari? Who might be the young man lucky enough to steal the Princess's heart?**

Questions had been thrown around. There was even a poll being started on the newspapers regarding the suitors' fame and supporters, who had been celebrated by their hometowns for being picked. And Bea… well, she’d spent the last couple of days either in her room or the gardens walking and playing with Vizmund. Thankfully, everyone knew to leave her alone. 

When the day of the suitors’ arrival had finally come, Bea was not only anxious but also ready for it all to be over.

"For better or worse," Bea murmured as she stared at herself in the mirror. 

She looked beautiful. Well prepared, as if she was ready to take on the world. Well, maybe just about thirty post-adolescent boys who were hoping to sit on the throne someday.

Early that morning, Maria sent three maids knocking on her door following an order to help her get ready for her first meeting with the guys. They tried, but they didn’t work as well with her as Grace always did. In the end, they assisted Grace by getting things for her and other simpler tasks. 

Bea and Grace worked with her appearance like they had read each other's minds. Her hair was down, the sides were swept to the back in a wavy half-up held together by flower-designed pins, letting her blonde curls fall down her back. Grace aimed for a more natural look on Bea's make-up that day, her jewelry matching the gold embroidery elaborately decorating the mandarin-style collar and down the front of her cream coat dress. 

She looked elegant.

She looked regal.

Most of all, she looked to be in control. And that was the most important thing for her.

She was the Princess, she would be Queen in a few months, no matter how fast it all seemed to be going. People were already doubting her and Bea would have to prove to them that she was no longer the little princess they still thought she was. She would start proving that through the Selection they had forced on her. 

_ You got this _ .

A pair of hands suddenly took her gloved ones and until then, she hadn’t realized how much they’d been trembling. 

"You'll be fine," Grace whispered softly, knowing the other maids were still in the room with them and the girl knew Bea enough to remember how she hates showing vulnerabilities in front of everyone. "Seriously."

"Yeah, I know," Bea nodded her head. Of course, Grace was right.  _ You got this, me _ . "Absolutely."

At this point, she doesn't even know what she was so anxious about. Meeting them? What they'll think about her? But princesses shouldn't worry about those. They made all possible preparations needed, from decoration to doubling up the palace security through the duration of the Selection. General Frank Walter will be right behind her to personally make sure her meet up with the suitors would go off without a hitch. None of them could even touch her hand if she doesn't want to. Her brother, Ian, will be right beside her too to welcome the guests that will be mostly about his age so their grandfather figured he might as well be there. And of course, Grace promised to stay close by. As her lady's maid and personal assistant, nobody questioned why she had to be there.

"Why are you so damn nervous?" Grace watched her face through the mirrors on her dresser, confused, until an idea must have come to her head. "Oh… Oh, I know! It's Rory Silva, isn't it? That cutie from your childhood!"

The name was enough to turn her face beet red, remembering that sweet boy who used to tell her he would be her knight-in-shining armor. Bea smacked the girl's hand to hide the fact that she was blushing. "Shut up!"

"Ian had been telling me how Rory used to come over and play pretend with you guys when you were little and you were so happy all the time and that--"

"I said--" Bea turned to the side to pinch Grace on the side. "Shut. Up."

Vizmund, who had been sleeping in the corner on his bed, must have thought they were playing and came over to join, wagging his tail in excitement.

"Okay, okay!" Grace held up her hands in surrender, grinning. "Alright, grumpy pants. I'll stop."

"Vizmund!" Bea yelped when he tried to lick her gloved hands. "No! You can't get your drool all over me!" 

There was a knock on the door and one of the maids rushed over to answer it. "Prince Ian, Your Highness."

"Let him in, please." Bea went back to double-checking her appearance on the mirror, the dog settled down beside her stool. "Good morning, brother."

Ian walked in, fixing the cuffs of his suit then looked up to everyone with a smile. "Good morning, ladies."

Bea swore she saw the maids visibly swooned at his small greeting, making her laugh. Vizmund recognized her brother's voice and bounded over to him immediately. Ian crouched down to pet the white fluff.

"You cleaned up nicely." Grace complimented him.

Bea glanced over and had to admit, her brother is getting better at dressing up. He had a simple white dress shirt and crisp royal-blue suit pants that matched the color of his suit jacket, which was made of silk and fitted him so handsomely. His only accessories were the gold cufflinks on his sleeves and the golden tiger pin on the lapel of his suit. Their family sigil.

At the sight of their family crest, Grace hurriedly reached for the jewelry box on her dresser to locate Bea's own pin and immediately set it on her chest. 

"There." Grace smiled proudly, looking her up and down. "I'm gonna pat my own shoulder later on when the boys start drooling over at you."

"Ew!" Bea looked horrified, cursing her imagination instantly kicking in. "That's gross."

"She's right, though, sis." Ian laughed, raising an eyebrow at her. "Trying to impress someone?"

"No, of course not." Bea crossed her arms across her chest. "I don't need to try and impress anyone.  _ I'm _ the princess. They should try to impress  _ me _ ."

"I'm kidding!" Ian laughed. "God, you're so fun to tease."

"I know, right?" Grace agreed.

"What I know is that we have to go." Bea changed tact. "Before Maria comes over and drags us all out there."

"Oh, right! She sent me over to pick you up." Ian held out his arm. "Shall we?"

"Vizmund?" Bea held on to his arm and their little entourage walked out of her chambers, the huge dog walking alongside them with Grace and the maids behind.

She was momentarily blinded by the light passing through tall windows as they marched down the hallway. The sun seemed to be at its brightest and the sky looked the bluest she had ever seen as if Maria pre-ordered the perfect weather just for this day. 

The people they passed by would bow and curtsy as soon as they saw Bea and Ian coming, half the attention would be directed to the very charming dog strutting by her other side. 

Through the speakers on every corner, a musical melody was playing quietly in the background. It all felt so right and peaceful, like an eye before the storm.

They reached the hallway leading to the throne room and saw a group of cameramen, immediately scrambling to set and prop up their equipment to capture the scene as Bea and her brother power walked to the throne room. The two of them were met by Erin Ward, who appears to be in-charge of collecting these footage. 

"Good morning, Your Highnesses." Erin greeted, dipping into a curtsy before adding, "Thank God you're finally here. I think Miss Maria was seconds away from getting you herself." 

Bea smiles, unfazed. "I'm sorry for the delay, my brother must have gotten lost on his way."

"Hey!" Ian protested. "Lies!"

Erin laughed along. "No, you're good. You're just in time."

"I've seen you around during the Report but I don't think we've met." Ian offered his hand.

"This is Erin Ward," Bea introduced the girl. "She was tasked on taking footage regarding the whole preparation for this Selection so she'd been around more often lately."

"Oh?" The two shook hands, Ian nodding. "In that case, we're glad to have you around, Erin."

"It's been my honor, Your Highness." Erin beamed, then gestured at the door with her hand. "Everyone's waiting." 

When she said everyone, she meant Maria, General Walters and a handful of guards stationed at each corner of the spacious throne room. Frank had been waiting by the dais, before the two gilded marble thrones stood proudly and where the long red-and-gold carpet connecting to the giant doors was. 

Maria asked if she wanted an audience to be there but Bea refused. She was already forced to read out the names in front of the entire television, not to mention a room full of people impatiently waiting for the announcement. Now there will be just a bunch of them present in the room as the suitors will enter one by one according to the arrangement their names were called during the last Report. Speaking of her…

Maria marched over to meet them as soon as they entered the door. Impeccably dressed, as always, with her clipboard in hand. "Bea," The older girl nodded at her seriously before turning to her brother. "Your Highness, everything's ready. Just say a word when you want to start."

"Uh, hi," Ian smiled hesitantly. Knowing him, Bea knew a serious woman like Maria could make him really nervous. "Nice to finally meet you, Bea told us a lot about you."

"All good things, I hope?" 

"Of course, how can she say anything bad when everyone can see how your planning had been turning out?" 

Maria seemed to glow from the compliments she'd been getting. "You're too kind, Your Highness. All that work can't be done without the Princess."

"And the Princess thinks there's no better person to do that job than you." Bea added. 

"I'm glad you think so," Maria actually smiled at that, turning to lead them to where they should stand. "Please follow me. We should get started." 

Grace stayed behind them, the other maids must have been dismissed, but Vizmund followed all the way up the dais where he stood by her other side like the dutiful guard dog that he is. Frank bowed his head at them with a smile. "Princess Bea. Prince Ian. Everything is going smoothly so far."

"Good. Thank you, Frank." Bea gave him a genuinely grateful smile. Knowing he'd be there took a bit of the edge off. Frank had kept her safe several times and she knew he wouldn't let himself fail at his duties anytime soon. 

Around them, she was aware of Erin's crew positioned on three different angles that will capture every moment from suitors walking towards the dais and till they finally meet her in person.

Bea turned her face to the doorway, her chin held high before she called out. "We shall begin."

Her voice came out firmer than she expected it to be. The guards visibly straightened on their spot and the page rushed to get to the doors and opened it, announcing the first suitor as soon as he stepped in. "Sir Aiden Zhou of Allens."

Aiden was a young man on the shorter side, though he still stood an inch or two taller than Bea in her heels. He presented Bea with a polite smile as he walked up to her and bowed, a little too deep but not bad. He took the hand she’d offered and kissed it.

“Aiden…” Bea said. “You’re a Five, yes? I remember reading that you play piano.” Grace had quizzed her on at least one memorable fact about each of the thirty Selected.

Aiden looked a little far away. “Yes, Your Highness,” he replied. “I also play violin, trombone, clarinet, and flute.”

“Impressive,” Bea said, truthfully. “I love playing piano, especially some of the old classic pieces. Maybe we can play together?”

Aiden nodded, although he still didn’t look quite focused. “Yes, Your Highness. I would very much enjoy that.”

“I hope you enjoy your stay,” Bea said, politely dismissing him. He left, and Bea barely had time to let out a breath before the page was calling the next one.

“Sir Rory Silva of Angeles,” the page called, and Bea barely knew what was going on before the handsome young man stepped in.

Dark-skinned, with close-cropped curly hair and deep brown eyes, Rory had always been incredibly attractive. Bea wasn’t immune to his attractiveness, even though she was a One and he was a Four. When they were younger, she’d had a huge crush on him. She was embarrassed to feel it coming back a little, heat rising in her chest and on her cheeks as he grinned at her.

It was all she could do to keep herself from squealing and catapulting herself into his arms. Embarrassing crush aside, he’d been one of her only friends she’d ever had outside of her brother and Grace. It was very nice to see him again.

Behind her, Bea heard Grace stifle a giggle.  _ She would have to pay for that later _ , Bea decided.

“Rory,” Bea said fondly as the young man took her hand. When he kissed her hand, she felt a tingle rise up through her chest, and she almost wanted to giggle too.

“How’s your mother?” Bea asked. Ian stepped forward to shake Rory’s hand, the two guys sharing a grin.

“She’s doing wonderfully, thank you,” Rory said. “She had a procedure done a few months ago and she’s been recovering, but she’s happy and I can tell she’s getting healthier every day.”

“That’s excellent,” Bea said. “Please, tell her I said hello.”

“She told me to say the same to you,” Rory replied. “But I bet you have a lot of people to see, so I’ll let you get to it.”

“Of course, of course,” Bea said, having completely forgotten about the twenty-eight other Selected waiting outside. “Enjoy your stay, I trust you know your way around. I’ll talk to you later on, okay?”

“I look forward to it, Princess,” he said, then bowed one last time. He shot a smile towards Ian and even nodded in Grace’s and Frank’s direction, startling them both. Bea watched him walk away.

The young men from Atlin, Baffin and Bankston came in, each perfectly polite but none leaving a particular impression on Bea. She hoped she’d get to know them better as the Selection went on, or at least that they’d be easy to eliminate.

“Sir Lucas Thomas, from Belcourt,” cried the page, and a tall man strode in, beaming as if it were his birthday. When Bea held out her hand to him, he shook it enthusiastically instead of kissing it, catching her off guard.

“Your Highness, I’m so excited to be here,” he said. “It’s truly an honor to be able to serve my country this way.”

Bea nodded. “I’m glad you’re here too, Lucas. I saw that you’re a Four. What does your family do?”

“We’re in real estate,” he said proudly, as if he were announcing his parents had seats on the Royal Council. “Before I heard about the Selection, I hoped to someday start my own agency.”

“You’re ambitious,” Bea noted. “That will serve you well here. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Highness,” he said again. He stopped to shake Ian’s hands, and he even tried to reach out to Grace, but she looked so startled at his forwardness that he dropped it, realizing he might be overenthusiastic. He left, and Bea turned to Grace and pretended to wipe a drop of sweat off her brow. Grace grimaced back.

“Sir Jordan Lee, from Bonita” was the next young man to come in. He had dirty blonde hair and tanned skin, and wore an easy smile.

He kissed Bea’s hand properly, which was a bit of a relief given the debacle with Lucas, and nodded at Ian, Grace and Frank.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Your Highness.”

“Likewise,” Bea smiled. “You’re a Five, right? What do you do?”

“My dad and I play in a duet,” he said. “I play the flute and he plays piano. But to hear him say it, he should be a comedian in another life.”

“Is that so?” Bea asked, amused by this young man’s simple confidence. “Did you inherit his gift for jokes?”

“I’d like to think not,” Jordan laughed.

“Well, Jordan, it was lovely to meet you,” Bea said. Jordan smiled at the group again and bowed, taking his leave.

“Sir Daniel Pierce, from Calgary” had an impressive mop of brown hair, and “Sir Gabriel Hart, from Carolina” would’ve spoken at length about his father’s technical support business had Bea not carefully cut him off. The gentleman from Clermont, despite being a Two, was quite shy.

“Sir Ajay Bhandari, from Columbia,” was the next one, and Bea vaguely remembered a pair of glasses and a barely-there smile from his application.

Ajay walked in rather stiffly, his back held ramrod straight, his hair gelled neatly into place. He hesitated before taking and kissing Bea’s hand, and when he stepped back he simply looked at her for a second, his expression calculating.

“Your Highness,” he said in an accented voice, moving his eyes from Bea to take in Ian, then Frank, then Grace. “Your home is beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Bea said, not sure what else to say to that. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay.”

Ajay nodded. “I am, thank you.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Bea took the opportunity to look him over again. He was handsome, but in a more subtle way than Rory or Jordan. Every fold in his clothes was neatly pressed, and frown lines from old stress showed on his forehead.

“What does your family do?” Bea asked, trying to break the awkwardness.

“My father is a diplomat to New Asia, Your Highness,” he explained. “We are originally from there, the southern subcontinent.”

“And how long have you been living in Solari?”

“Most of my life,” Ajay said, his closed-off nature giving way a little bit to a small smile. “Although I do try to go with my father when he’s sent on diplomatic missions.”

“That sounds wonderful. Well, Ajay, I hope you enjoy your stay.”

He bowed, and then walked off, but not without looking back at Bea’s entourage. He spent a few seconds staring them down, seeming like he wanted to say something. Grace visibly started fidgeting when he looked at her. After a little while, though, he left. Grace nudged Bea’s side with her elbow, but there wasn’t any more time until the page called in the next gentleman.

“Sir Michael Harrison, from Dakota” strutted in, one hand in his pocket and a confident expression on his face.

“Your Highness,” he addressed Bea after kissing her hand. Bea wouldn’t have admitted it, but making eye contact with his piercing green eyes made her a little blushy. He was dressed in a matching blue suit coat and pants, a red shirt underneath. A weird combination of color but it suited him well.

“Michael, lovely to meet you,” Bea replied.

The Selected from Denbeigh and Dominica didn’t make much of an impression on Bea, but “Sir Max Warren, from Fennley” instantly struck her as someone to be wary of.

Max walked down the carpeted aisle with huge steps and a toothy grin on his face. He was a bit bigger from everyone, with broad shoulders and beefy arms. His grip on Bea's hand when he kissed it got so tight that she had to pull free from his grasp, shooting Ian a look of alarm. 

"Princess," Max spoke with a gruff voice. "I'm not a stranger to the palace and I'm sure you've watched games in the university."

Actually, she had never watched any sports games outside the palace. Ian, though, was nodding with that smile on his face when his favorite topic is being talked about. "You were Captain."

"And a pretty great one, if I say so myself," the guy stated proudly. 

"I'm sure your team and the entire university is rooting for you," Bea joined in, hoping he would take that as a cue that he was being dismissed. "Welcome to the palace, Max."

"I've never felt more at home." He spread his arms, gesturing at his surroundings as he walked away. 

Or perhaps he was showing the size of his ego. 

The sound of the doors creaking open was the signal as the page called in the next guy. "Sir Noah Harris, from Hansport."

Bea had never understood the word  _ edgy _ until the next suitor walked in. He was tall, with dark brown eyes and a jawline that could cut through a diamond. A permanent scowl seemed to be etched on his forehead while he swept his gaze around the room, guarded, as he marched down the aisle in hurried footsteps. The silk of his black suit glinted under the light, but Bea noticed him pull at his collar a couple times before he reached her.

Noah bowed down, his movements showed reluctance even when he looked up at her. "Your Highness."

"Noah," Bea tilted her head, curious. She noticed he didn't reach out for her hand and realized exactly why when she saw the scars on the knuckles of his hand, something he was obviously trying to hide. "Did you choose that suit yourself?" 

The guy raised his eyebrows, taken aback by her random question. Even Ian and Grace looked at her weirdly. 

"I… no. Definitely not." Noah shook his head, looking down his suit in disgust. "If I had a say in it, I'd ask for leather." 

"I bet you do," Bea gave him a knowing smile. "I can't promise there's any leather at our palace tailor right now, but maybe they can make it less suffocating for you." 

"Your Highness." A tiny smirk curved the corner of Noah's lips. "That's awfully kind of you."

“Of course,” Bea dipped her head and smiled at the young man. “I hope you enjoy your time here, Noah.”

The young man bowed and left the room, looking a little more at ease but still very uncomfortable.

Bea sighed. 

The young man from Honduragua was nice enough, classically handsome and polite, if not a bit too quiet. “Sir Trevor Watts, from Hudson” was also polite, and was rather proud of his discipline doing sculptures with wood and metal. The guy from Kent didn’t leave much of an impression on Bea, except the fact that his hair was nearly the same color as Bea’s and Ian’s.

“Sir Dakota Winchester, from Labrador,” cried the page, and a skinny but very cute young man walked in. He had a warm smile, and Bea admired his blue-green eyes.

He bowed and kissed her hand. “Your Highness,” he said, “it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Bea replied. “What does your family do?”

“We work on public work projects,” he said proudly. “Bridges, flood control, community centers. Things like that.”

“Your province must be very lucky to have you,” Bea said. Dakota dipped his head, looking a little bashful.

“I hope I can make them proud,” he said.

Bea nodded. “I hope you enjoy your stay here, Dakota. Maybe the Selection can be your chance to make your province proud.”

Once he left, Bea raised her hand to signal to the page to give her a few minutes to reflect. She turned to Ian and Grace.

“I’m so hungry,” she whined immediately, causing Grace to laugh. “It’s not funny! I haven't had breakfast yet!”

“And there’s still ten guys to meet,” Ian added unhelpfully.

“I think the next guy is the Crandalls’ son,” Grace said, even more unhelpfully.

Bea groaned. “What do you think of the guys so far?”

“I liked that Jordan guy, he seemed nice. And Rory, of course.”

Grace wrinkled her nose. “The guy with the accent… Ajay. He was staring at me and it really weirded me out. And Lucas was acting like it was his graduation.”   
  


Bea giggled. “Was there anyone you liked, Grace? Or are you just roasting them all.”

“They’re all handsome,” Grace said reluctantly. “And I saw the way Michael made you blush.”

“I didn't!” Bea cried defensively. “So we’re agreed? We like Rory?”

“I kinda liked that edgy Noah guy,” Grace added. “And the last guy, Dakota, he seemed sweet.”

“Aiden seemed snobby,” Ian complained. “And Max just gave me the creeps.”

Just then, Bea’s stomach growled loudly. Vizmund looked up at the group, his eyes begging. He hadn’t gotten his breakfast either, and he was getting desperate.

“Alright, alright,” Bea sighed. She motioned to the page. “Bring the next one in, please.”

“Sir Brian Crandall of Lakedon,” the page announced, and then a tall, well-built redhead waltzed into the room, grinning with all his teeth showing like Rodger did at advisor meetings when he wasn’t being completely sincere.

“Brian,” Bea said, extending her hand for him to kiss. Before he could get close, though, Vizmund let out a low growl from her side. Brian glared at the dog, and bent to kiss Bea’s hand in a maneuver that was too showy for Bea’s taste.

“Your Highness,” he said. “I’m glad to finally meet you. My parents talk nonstop about their work with your grandfather.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t met you before,” Bea remarked, reaching a hand down to pet Vizmund soothingly. “What do you do in Lakedon?”

“I’m preparing to take over my father’s duchy and other businesses,” he declared, puffing his chest out proudly.

“Wouldn’t that make you a Four? A business owner?” Ian piped up for the first time in the proceedings. Bea gave him a side-eye glance, wondering what her brother was trying to do.

Brian rolled his eyes, not even acknowledging the prince with the proper greeting. “My family have been Twos since this country’s beginnings,” he said haughtily. “ _ Regular _ business owners might be Fours, but my family were Twos and noble blood due to our business success and our loyalty to the crown.”

Ian looked like he wanted to say something else, but one look from Bea shut him up. Bea gave Brian a fake smile, just wanting him to leave the room so that she could get on with the rest of the introductions.

“I hope you enjoy your stay here, Brian,” she said.

“I will, Your Highness,” he said innocently, but his eyes wandered over her body, like he was taking her in. He smiled, bowed, and then left.

“God, he’s just as slimy as his parents,” Ian got out before the page called out the next name, the Selected from Likely. Before he entered, Bea shot back another glance at her brother. Enough to tell him that she knew he was right, but that he shouldn’t say things like that in public.

Grace reached forward to stroke Vizmund’s ears halfway through Bea’s introduction with the Midston guy, and that was probably the most interesting thing that happened during their entire conversation. The guy from Ottaro was so soft-spoken that Bea could barely hear him, and the one from Paloma was a Two who was overly cocky and sure of himself, like Brian Crandall. 

Caleb Mitchell, a Four from Sonage, showed some promise, and was certainly a breath of fresh air after the last three guys. He spoke of an interest in sports, which got Ian’s interest immediately, but even aside from that he seemed like an interesting person. Caleb gave her a brief concerned frown. "I don't mean to intrude, Your Highness, but are you alright?"

His question conveyed sincerity and concern that Bea couldn't help but be touched. "I will be once I get some breakfast."

"Oh, of course." Caleb laughed, his tone rich and amused. 

“I’ll be looking forward to getting to know you better,” Bea said, smiling at him once he had bowed and was taking his leave.

“Same to you, Your Highness.”

Grace leaned forward and whispered, “Okay, he’s really hot and sweet.” Bea just playfully pushed her away as the next man, Robert Sutcliffe from Sota, came in.

Despite being a Two, Robert (or Robbie, as he’d insisted Bea call him) had none of the attitude that all the other Twos among the Selected had. Instead, when Bea asked him about his interest, he talked about using his influence to get into politics and improve living conditions in the southern provinces.

Clint Callaghan, a Five from Tammins, was a freckled boy who was cute and pretty funny, despite the bad joke and fake accent he tried to do in the middle of the conversation. Bea thought maybe he was just nervous, and decided that she’d figure out who he really was later on.

The final two, Mason Jennings from Waverly and Andrew (he told them to call him Andy) Kang were both lovable boy-next-door types. They were both into sports--Bea exchanged an exasperated look with Grace when she heard that--and both had friendly smiles and confidence that didn’t overflow into an inflated ego, which Bea definitely liked. 

“Is that all?” Bea asked the page. “Nobody added another province while I wasn’t paying attention?”

“No, ma’am,” replied the bewildered page, and Grace giggled in the background as Bea sighed in relief.

“Thank god!” 

"So, you've met them in person," The General suddenly spoke. Frank was so quiet during the whole thing that Bea almost forgot he was standing there. "What do you think about them so far?"

"Definitely a strange mix, but then again, it's a strange situation altogether." Bea said, voicing out what was in her head. "They all look nice, nothing I can say about that. Maybe the designers should stop giving Noah Harris a bowtie before he strangles any of them with it. But personality-wise, there are a few of them that make me feel uneasy. Some are just plain out nervous and shy, and some were actually really nice. Maybe we can see some improvements along the way."

"Surely." Frank nodded, satisfied. "Now, I don't wanna keep a girl from her food, much less a princess, so I suppose this is where we go our separate ways?"

"For now." Her smile broadened. The General left them to do his actual job. 

Maria stepped in from wherever she was hiding and gestured to the cameramen to cut the scene before walking to their spot. "One thing on today’s agenda has been accomplished."

"How did I do?" She asked.

"Pretty good, considering you were woken up too early and hadn't eaten any breakfast," the older girl remarked, a little smile on her face.

"Well, thank you," Bea told her, before looking around. "All of you."

"We're just doing our job." Maria beamed.

"A job well done."

She felt something brushed her hand and found Vizmund staring up at her, a pleading look on his face. Looking beside her, she could see the same look on Ian's face. 

They excused themselves from everyone in the throne room and Maria led them to the dining hall, where the suitors would be waiting. Just on time, their Grandfather appeared from the other end of the hall flanked by his usual guards. He regarded them with a nod then followed him inside where the suitors immediately bowed at the sight of them three. 

Three long dining tables were set to form a big U in the middle of the room. Fifteen suitors on either side and three throne-like seats on the middle table connecting the other two. A butler pulled the middle seat for Bea to sit while King Father gave the suitors a quick once-over before taking a seat on her right. Ian followed to his place on her left. 

Once the three of them were seated, the suitors went to their assigned seats in a very choreographed manner that Bea wondered if Maria made them practice that too. She knew the girl also provided the suitors a few etiquette lessons and how to behave properly as soon as they set foot in the palace.

Half a dozen maids walked in pushing in trollies and carrying trays of food, using the wide empty space in the center of the dining tables to set them where they were assigned to be. 

Bea felt a bit strange. It wasn’t everyday that they would share breakfast with a large group of people, especially not with thirty young men who looked as weirded out as she is just by seeing their face. Aside from a handful of them, perhaps, like the Twos who had been to dinner parties and banquet feasts as grand as the ones they would be having in the palace. 

The King Father started eating and the rest of them followed his lead. For a while, the dining hall was quiet except for the sound of them eating. Erin's crew were there as planned, her cameramen circling the area to capture the first ever meal the royal family had with the suitors. 

Bea took that moment to study the suitors, too, in between bites of her breakfast. She could see the differences of their castes just by the way they take in the food. The guys that came from well-off families like Ajay and Robbie ate their meal in silence, manners always in check. But the ones who came in from the lower castes like Jordan and Mason were eating so heartily she couldn't help but smile. And then there was Clint, who was ogling the trays of delicious and specially-prepared food in front of him with such wonder as if he was afraid it might disappear if he touched it, opposite of how his fellow Five Aiden was eating in a very reserved manner. 

Ian leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I think you should talk to them. I don't know...interact. For the cameras, you know."

"What would we even talk about?" Bea started running ideas in her head. "We just met them."

"Exactly." Her brother nodded. "Get them to talk."

"Is everything alright?" their grandfather asked from Bea’s side, raising a questioning eyebrow at the two of them. 

"Yes, grandfather," Bea replied, her voice coming out a bit small before she cleared her throat and spoke louder for the dining hall to hear. "Actually, I think we should start getting to know each other. This is our first meal together after all."

There was a pause, the suitors stopping mid-chew and staring at her blankly. 

An idea formed inside her head as she said that, setting her spoon and knife down and looking at each of them. "How about a little ice-breaker while we eat? I heard ice-breakers are for parties and are usually dreaded at school, but really I'm just gonna ask you all one question. One question and a couple of minutes to answer." She looked at Maria, who was standing just outside the doorway. "Will you please send someone in to do the timer for them?"

A few seconds later, one of the butlers walked in holding a watch. Bea smiled, clapping her hands. "Shall we begin?"

The suitors murmured their assent. Although the majority of the suitors looked nervous due to the presence of the King Father, Bea could see a handful of them were actually excited for the opportunity to show off their wit in front of her and the former king. 

"We should start from the end of the line this time." Bea said, pointing at the end of the right table. "Andy?"

Andy stood up, smoothing down his dark blue suit jacket. "Your Highness?"

She gave the guy an encouraging look. "You have two minutes to tell us all about your home province, Zuni."

Andy started speaking, quite confidently and Bea saw how proud he was of his home province. The guy talked about his family's life in Zuni, the rich history their province had, the reservations, the farming and the livestock business and beautiful sights to see if any of them ever find their way to Zuni. Soon, the timer started ringing mid-sentence signalling his time was over.

"I'm afraid we have to cut it short. Thank you, Andy!" Bea smiled, suddenly, the breakfast didn't seem so boring anymore and she noticed the guys were now looking forward to their turn. Looking forward to beating the others and bragging about their province, no doubt. 

Andy bowed, grinning proudly. The other suitors clapped their hands, except for a few others who were either busy eating or just outright showing their lack of care, like Max and Brian. Mason Jennings stood up once his fellow suitor took his seat. 

“Ten reasons why Waverly is the best province,” he started, and the rest of the guys mumbled, but Bea could see the grins on some of their faces and how a few backs straightened, eager to prove Mason wrong.

Once Mason’s time was up, Clint took over. He was a little awkward and hesitant, which earned him a derisive snort from Brian’s direction. Clint stood up rather quickly before he was called. His chair cluttered loudly behind from his fast movements and he rushed to get it back up, mumbling apologies as he did so. Bea was alarmed, his time was ticking and by the time he was ready to speak, his words came out in stutters, causing a new wave of snickers from the others. Clint blushed furiously, his forehead glistening in sweat.

The timer beeped soon. Bea felt bad for Clint as he seemed to be close to crying. 

"I-I'm so sorry." He apologized, looking down on the table in shame. “Um, Your Highness. I make the case that Tammins is the best district in Solari for agriculture.”

" _ I _ make the case that you don't even like girls," Brian commented. Max couldn’t hold back his laughter at that, and Clint flushed. Bea decided to ignore Brian completely. She noticed a lot of angry faces pointed at the redhead. 

“Right on, Clint. Getting enough food to our citizens is probably the most important work in the country.”

Clint flashed her a grateful smile, shooting another glance towards Brian and Max who weren’t even pretending to pay attention.

While Clint talked about crops, Robbie mostly spoke on industry and the impressive rail system that Sota was known for. Caleb talked about the sunshine in Sonage and the beautiful beaches. Eventually it was Brian’s turn, and though he had been tuning everyone else out, he irritatingly knew exactly when it was his turn to talk.

“Alright, Brian. Let’s hear about Lakedon. Why is Lakedon the best province in Solari?”

Brian grinned again, the cocky smirk that annoyed Bea. “Easy,” he said. “It has me.”

He earned a laugh from Max and a couple of the other Twos, but mostly unimpressed looks from everyone else. Bea just bit her lip and nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

“Well, our political system is one of the best. Nobody steps out of line, and our province runs like a factory. Everyone in their proper place. Everyone contributes to society, and everyone gets something back. Unlike several of Solari’s provinces, especially the southern ones-- forgive me,” he said, holding up a hand when Caleb and Jordan started to open their mouths to argue, “but our water supply is pristine. Our air is clean. Our people don't starve if they know how to work. Our family built Lakedon from the scratch, making it one of the most successful provinces up to date. If not for our-- ”

"Thank you, Brian." Bea cut him off just in time for the watch to beep, not sparing him a glance when she turned to the next suitor. “Dakota? You’re next. Tell us about Labrador.”

While Dakota was talking about Labrador’s snowy fields and beautiful lakes, Bea seethed. Brian had already made a bad impression on her, though she knew the King Father definitely wanted him here. That would make eliminating him a lot harder, if she was able to do it at all.

Dakota’s timer beeping pulled Bea out of a very bad thought spiral about being forced to be Brian’s wife. She startled, and looked up and smiled at Dakota. She felt a little bad for not having listened, but then the young man from Kent got up and bored them all with a very dry story about architectural history, and then she didn’t feel bad about ignoring any of his speech. This was really just so the guys could get to know each other, right?

She barely heard what Trevor Watts had said, only smiling and thanking him for it even though she had studied what the suitors had been telling her about the moment she reached seven years old. Her interest came back for a while when the suitor in black, Noah, stood up. Unfortunately, his own disinterest can be heard loud and clear through his drawl. He didn't even wait for the two minutes to end when he bowed and took his seat.

"I bet this was a step up from the juvie, isn't it?" Max snickered, causing Noah to look around with an angry frown. A few of the boys joined in on the laugh, much to Bea's disappointment. 

She wasn't sure if that was true about Noah, or if the board would let a troubled boy participate in a Selection so she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Adding it to the list of something to look into, and piling reasons to dislike Max even more. Soon, it was his turn.

Max Warren spent his two minutes bragging about his football, baseball, and basketball abilities when it has nothing to do with his home province. Something that was voiced out by Michael. "Province of the Academics and they sent in a meathead."

Bea raised an eyebrow at him and he returned it with a non-apologetic smile. Max, though, didn't look as forgiving for the statement.

She started to feel it, a growing tension among the suitors as the boys from Dominica and Denbeigh spoke. Max, Brian and a few others had become increasingly obnoxious, belittling their fellow suitors every chance they get. Sometimes, they don't even have to say a word, the sneers on their faces said it all. 

Michael, despite his breezy and devil-may-care attitude, proved himself knowledgeable when it comes to his province. He explained the history of how Dakota used to be divided in North and South and how it became whole again years before Solari was found. 

"Thank you, Michael, that was indeed interesting." Bea remarked when he finished on the clock. 

"No problem, Your Highness." He bowed, then sent a wink her way. Bea blushed against her will.

Ajay stood up. He ran a hand down his dark-green jodhpuri-style suit, a nod to his origin, to fix some invisible wrinkle then pushed his glasses up his nose before speaking in a very fluid and articulate manner. Impressive, even. His public speaking wasn't something to brush off about. The guy spoke of how well the community in Columbia had welcomed his family, how much the people in his city respected each other and worked hard to support each other. The wealth of knowledge that the province’s many universities produced, the groundbreaking research that they did. He cited his father’s work as a diplomat to New Asia and his mother’s tenure as a professor at Columbia’s most prestigious university as top contributions to the province, but it somehow didn’t come across as bragging. More like he was proud to belong to a family that contributed so much to the community.

"You don't even look like a Solarian, dude!" Max quipped once Ajay was done.

"Might be." Ajay turned, unfazed. "But my family is proof that both countries can work together as allies. I was born here, and I'll be more than honored to serve this country with the best of my abilities." Looking Max straight in the eyes, Ajay spoke the next words directly to him. "I wish I could say you have the same thing."

"Oooh." The suitors whistled in unison. 

Bea raised her eyebrows again, surprised yet glad to see Max got something he deserves for once. His face burned, eyes turning red in anger. 

Michael leaned back to his chair, enjoying the show. "Roasted."

"Shut up." Max growled.

"How can you be sure," Brian piped in. "That, if that guy right there ever became prince, he wouldn't sell this country to New Asia?"

"One of the best qualities of a good leader will be his morals." Ajay answered. " I always have mine in check and I'll let the Princess and our people be the judge of that. Where do your morals lie, Mr. Crandall?"

Brian opened his mouth but seemed to be unprepared to answer. One of the suitors replied for him, in a mocking voice. "Mommy and Daddy are so rich they can buy him as many morals as he wants!"

The suitors laughed.

"Who said that?" He scowled.

"What’re you gonna do about it?" Caleb asked. "You'll pay someone to get rid of them?"

"Money can't buy everything, Brian," said Jordan. 

"Spoken like a real Five," Max retorted.

"Yeah, these bottom-feeders can't even afford a damn cake," another Two laughed.

The suitors ended up arguing loudly with each other. Clint and the others looked like they were about to shrink further in their seats to avoid a scuffle. Bea sat up, not knowing what to do. Maria must have heard them from the hallway and appeared to be as lost as she is. A roast fest wasn't included in her planning. 

Bea stood up, trying to get their attention. "I think it's best--"

Noah, who didn't seem to like anything much, looked thoroughly entertained for once. His smirk filled with mischief. "Smart move taking your bouncer along with you, Crandall."   
  


"Noah, stop it." Mason tried to convince the guys to stand down.

She didn't even know who's insulting who by now. The only one who wasn't joining in the argument was Aiden. The guy was eating peacefully in his corner like nothing was wrong. 

"ENOUGH," the King Father bellowed, slamming his hands on the table. By Bea’s chair, Vizmund startled. Bea reached down to pet him, but he slipped through her fingers as he fled from the room. Vizmund had never liked loud yelling, and all the boys’ fighting plus the King Father calling for their attention must have pushed him over the edge. Bea watched Vizmund leave, wishing she could do the same.

At once, the dining room became eerily quiet. The boys settled back to their seats, the remaining maids rushed to the nearest exit they could find in fear of getting in the way of the former King's wrath.

Ian pulled Bea back down into her seat. She was frozen on the spot. She didn't think it could end this badly. She just wanted to have something good to show to the people. 

The scowl on their grandfather's face was enough to make a brave soldier run. He got to his feet, looking at each of the suitors in the eye. "I thought I invited thirty honourable young men of Solari into my home. You are being groomed, fed, compensated, and will be given a chance to sit on my damn throne without even a drop of royal blood on your veins. Perhaps I was wrong. All I see here are a bunch of whining, immature little brats arguing over petty things."

The King Father turned to face her and lowered his voice so only she could hear. "This was your idea, and I don't want to see this happen again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, grandfather." Bea nodded. She didn't dare look in his eyes knowing there was nothing there but disappointment and annoyance.

With that, the old man left the table and walked out of the dining hall. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Bea let out the breath she had been holding, exchanging nervous glances with Ian. 

"Well," Taking a deep shaky breath, Bea looked up to find all the suitors had been staring at her. "This was... certainly interesting. I can't say I'm happy for the way you behaved, but I hope you will prove to be better than that. Once you're done eating, you're dismissed."

She herself didn't feel like eating anymore, so she stood up and left the room without turning back.


	5. Skye-with-an-e

“Vizmund?” she called once she was out of earshot of the dining room. She knew he liked being outside, but the gardens were off-limits unless he was on a leash. He must have fled to the courtyard.

That was fine, Bea liked being out there too. It was her special place with Vizmund. Her Grandfather stayed in his study most of the time, Ian was usually out on the grounds doing training with the Royal Guards if he needed to blow off steam, and most guests didn’t know about it or weren’t interested. She'd usually take a book, sometimes her violin, and a chew toy or tennis ball for Vizmund when she went.

Climbing up to the third floor, she scowled at the door at the end of the hallway. That must be where the Crandalls were staying. At that moment, she hated them. She hated them for raising a son as slimy as Brian. She hated their close relationship with her grandfather that meant she had to keep the guy in the Selection.

Angrily, Bea kicked the door to the courtyard open and stomped in.

She had been right: Vizmund was, in fact, hiding from all the commotion in the courtyard. There was nothing new about that. What was surprising was the small redhead who had jumped when Bea kicked the door, and was now staring at her with wide blue eyes.

“Who are you?” Bea demanded, knowing it was rude but she didn't expect to have to interact with another human being for at least a few hours. 

“Who are  _ you _ ?” the girl countered, rising to her feet slowly. 

Bea raised an eyebrow.  _ Didn’t everyone in the palace know who I am? _

The girl took in Bea’s clothes, her glittering tiara, her expression, and her posture, and her shocked expression morphed into something else. Bea saw a flicker of fear crossed her features, but the girl quickly trained her expression to indifference. She stood immediately and curtsied neatly, if not a bit reluctant.

“Your Highness, my apologies,” she said, folding into herself a little bit. It was such a vast change from being challenged in her own courtyard that Bea had to stifle a laugh. 

They stood a few meters away from each other, neither of them moving. Bea took the chance to study the stranger staring awkwardly back at her. She had striking red hair that fell in waves down her back. 

_ Red hair _ … it seemed that the amount of redheads she had been meeting lately was growing and Bea wasn't sure how to feel about that. So far, the ones she'd met only brought nothing but problems for her.

The girl's coppery waves contrasted with her flawless pale complexion but weirdly matched the short black Victorian dress she was wearing. Actually, she was wearing all black. From the red-jeweled lace choker around her neck, the black leggings, down to the high leather boots on her feet.

No one in the palace would be caught dead wearing something like this but somehow, she made it work. Judging from the apathetic look on her pretty face, she didn't seem to know or care. 

“Your dog found me.” The girl suddenly spoke.

Sure enough, Vizmund sat by the girl’s side, staring up at her happily. Bea thought that if Vizmund liked this stranger, then she wouldn't probably try to murder Bea. She sat on a bench across from the girl, and she sat as well.

“Nobody else usually comes in here,” Bea remarked, calling Vizmund back over to her side. The dog obediently trotted over and sat by Bea’s side while she scratched his ears, but he kept looking at her.

"I gave him some treats," the redhead said, getting to her feet and brushing the skirt of her black lacy dress. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not." Bea could see from the girl's body language how she was eager to leave and Bea couldn't help but be confused. Most people would be glad to be with her company, honoured even.  _ Do I have dirt on my face? _ Bea wondered.  _ Did I say something to offend her? _

"I didn't mean to intrude, so I'll be going now. I'm sure you'd want to be left alone." The girl curtsied once more before heading to the door.

“Wait. You haven't answered my question.” Bea pointed out, waiting till the other girl stopped in her tracks and turned. "Who are you? You didn't tell me your name."

“Skye,” she said. 

"Sky? Like…" Bea raised her eyebrows, looking up at the blue Angeles sky above them on instinct.

The girl let out an exasperated sigh, as if she was used to hearing the same question over and over. "Skye. With an  _ e _ ."

"Skye-with-an-e." Bea pronounced the name slowly.

"Just please don't call me that." Skye sighed heavily before walking away. 

_ What just happened? _ Bea stared at the doors, still creaking from the distance. 

Vizmund let out a quiet whimper and rested his head on Bea’s lap. She absent-mindedly stroked behind his ears, still thinking about that girl.  _ Who was she? How did she get into the courtyard? How come Vizmund liked her so much? _

  * ••



Later that day, after a private lunch in her room, talking about the boys with Grace, Bea was called in to see the King Father. She went reluctantly to his office, hoping he wasn’t going to give her a lecture. 

“Ah, Beatrice,” he said, setting down his pen. “I wanted to speak with you about the Selected.”

“I didn’t mean for them to act like that,” Bea said immediately, almost pleading. But her grandfather held up a hand and she fell silent.

“No, I think you’ve heard about that enough. I just wanted you to know, you’re going to be expected to do an elimination this evening, before dinner.”

Bea’s eyes got wider.  _ Expected _ to? It wasn’t like she hadn’t been thinking about it, but having her grandfather tell her to do something made her want to do it less. Nonetheless, she swallowed her pride.

“I have some of them in mind,” Bea started.

The King Father nodded. “I expected so. I just wanted to let you know that some of those young men have more political sway than you might think. The Crandalls, for example, are our best advisors. It would be… unfortunate if you made them feel unwelcome in the palace.”

Bea understood what he was saying.  _ Don’t eliminate Brian. _ It was a shame, because he’d honestly been first on her list to go home. But outwardly, she just nodded.

“Anyone else?”

“The New Asian. His father has diplomatic ties, and until I understand what’s going on there, I want him here too. And the Warren boy, his family have royal endorsement. It would look bad in the public eye if you sent him home right away.”

Bea hadn’t planned on sending Ajay home yet, but she had wanted Max gone. And yet, it was another part of her life that she didn’t have control over.

“Yes, sir,” she said, then once he nodded to dismiss her, she curtsied and left the room.

Back in the room where she’d greeted all of the Selected for the first time, with a list of ten names, two of them crossed out, she opted to deliver the bad news to eight of the Selected. 

“Excuse me,” she said, calling them to attention once they had all entered the room. “I would just like to say, it has been lovely hosting you gentlemen. But unfortunately, I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

Instantly, it was like each of them had been given the worst news of their life. Three of the guys grew noticeably angry, and Bea was glad of Frank’s presence in the background. Two others started to cry, and the rest just looked shocked.

“W- was it something I said?” one of the crying ones asked, stepping closer to Bea, his arms outstretched. Bea automatically stepped backwards before she could think better of it, and Frank immediately came to her side.

“What, you’re not even gonna give me a chance?” asked one of the angry ones, balling his fists up. “You won’t even go on a date with me? Won’t even give me the time of day? This is bullshit.”

Another one, a Two, nodded. “It is. I’d be surprised if you ever fall in love. Your heart’s clearly made out of ice.”

_ Made of ice? _ Bea thought, somewhat hurt. It was true they weren't given a chance, since she hadn't dated any of them, but she hadn't given them anything less than a warm welcome in her home.

"You all came here aware of every rule the Selection has, and I don't see why I have to explain my reasons." Bea took another step back as all the men started talking over each other. She sent a panicked glance to Frank, and Frank stepped in front of her.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” he said. “I’ll see you back to your rooms.”

Bea nodded her thanks to Frank, and once the young men had all been ushered out of the room, she let out a heavy breath she didn't know she was holding and slumped down on the bigger throne that was meant to be for the King. 

Someday, she will have to take on the reins and she will have to ascend on the same throne her father and the kings before him had seated, with the crown and the responsibilities that came along with it. 

_ Am I ready? _ Bea asked herself, leaning back on the throne and staring absentmindedly at the paintings on the high ceiling far above.  _ Will I ever be ready? Am I meant to be Queen? _

Thinking back on all the disappointments she had given to their grandfather and all the underhanded comments he would always give her, it was hard to see how she will ever be good enough to take the crown. It should have been Leon. It should have been Ian. _ Why is the King Father taking this long to just hand over these responsibilities to Ian? _

"Taking a feel on your future throne?" Someone suddenly asked, the voice echoing through the vast and quiet room. 

Bea sat up, almost frightened. Despite the guards positioned on every exit, the dim light and the emptiness of the throne room gave a little sense of creepiness. She squinted at the figure by the doorway. "Rory?"

"Hi," With his hands behind his back, Rory cautiously walked in, a gentle smile on his handsome face. "I was just passing and saw the guys leave. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, of course." Bea smiled back. The sight of her old friend melted some of her worries away. She stood and made her way down the dais. "How are you, Rory?"

"I'm doing great. I still feel a little full from dinner so I decided to walk around, you know?"

"I get you." She agreed. "I take it you're enjoying the palace food so far?"

"Who wouldn't?" Rory grinned. 

"I'm glad." 

They were silent for a few moments until Rory spoke. "How are you, Bea? I, um… you seem quieter than I remember."

"Oh?" Bea turned to face him. "I'm good, just have a lot in my mind, that's all. What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know, you've changed a lot, Bea." He said softly, his dark brown eyes boring into her. "I knew you've always been pretty when we were little but now… wow."

Bea was hoping the dimmed light would somehow conceal the flushing on her face. She didn't know how to respond to that.

So Rory went on. "You're becoming even more…"

"Bossy?" She joked. 

"I'd say beautiful." Rory nodded.

"Thank you." She beamed. "You've grown pretty good as well."

"I also couldn't help but notice, you seemed to have a lot of things going on in your head lately. I'm not surprised. What with the Selection around and you having to assume the throne someday, I guess it gets to you sometimes."

"I have so much to learn, at such a short period of time. Leon had been trained for this his whole life. He was ready. He would have been…" the words died in her throat. Bea shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips.

"I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch." Rory said, shame and concern warring in his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't reach out. I was a jerk."

"No, you're not. So much happened. My parents and Leon died, your mom got cancer. My grandfather practically cut your family off from your job. I wasn't mad, Rory. None of that was your fault."

"Would you be mad if I say I didn't reach out because I was afraid you don't want to talk to me anymore?"

"What?" An incredulous laugh escaped her lips. "That's... preposterous."

"I know. I know! It's just, I thought your grandfather would have forbidden you to make contact with us anymore."

"Grandfather wouldn't outright forbid us like that. It was more of the fact that he kept me busy with tasks and lessons for what's expected of me someday." 

Rory mirrored her sad smile. "We've come so far from the two children playing pretend at the gardens, haven't we?"

"There are simply so many things I am no longer allowed to do… no longer allowed to be. It's only a matter of who I'll have to be someday."

"I guess we're really not allowed to meet this way?"

Bea gave him a sheepish smile and shook her head. "I have to be impartial on my treatments on all of you."

"Well, if that's the case, Your Highness," Rory stepped back, bowing stiffly. "I suppose I should be heading upstairs and rest. Have a good evening." 

"Good night, Rory." Bea nodded. 

"Good night, Bea."

She watched the boy walk away, leaving her alone in the middle of the empty throne room and her worries flooded back in. 

  * ••



  
  


Days came by with no issues as duties kept everyone busy, even the suitors.

While Bea spent her mornings in the study with her grandfather, signing paperwork, studying the laws and a mountain of issues to review, the boys were getting their daily lessons from Maria regarding the everyday life at the palace. That includes history, etiquette, international deals and alliances and other diplomatic and political matters that every country leader should learn about. 

Tonight will be the Report, the first ever television appearance the suitors will be having. The nerves are back, even fiercer than ever. 

"Come on, come on!" Grace appeared from the walk-in closet, rushing to fix the monogrammed sash on the shoulder of Bea's dress. "No time to be nervous or anything. You're late."

"Okay. Jeez!" Bea laughed, putting on the rings on her fingers, which are getting sweaty.

"The Report starts in ten minutes, lady!"

Even with the fast movements, Bea didn't get so much of a pinprick when Grace attached the sash around her. To make matters worse though, Vizmund had been strutting around her room with his tail wagging in the air, blocking their path, jumping at something they were holding. Grace was just about to pull all her hair out.

"Your Highness?" Maria's voice called outside her door. "The Report starts in eight minutes!"

_ Oh, goodness! _

"I'm ready in just a second!" She answered back, checking her reflection on the mirror one last time.

"Done." Grace smiled harriedly, patting the red-and-gold sash on her shoulder. "Now, go!"

"Okay!"

"Woof! Woof!" Vizmund responded too, running to the doors.

As if understanding the dog, Maria opened the door and the two of them practically ran out. 

"Good luck, Your Highness!" Grace yelled after them.

Thank god she was used to walking and running with high heels on because between her marching, and Maria's naturally quick strides, they made it downstairs in three minutes and no injuries happened. Vizmund, being the happy dog that he is, ran ahead of them then coming back a few times as if asking her to hurry the hell up. Once they reached the hallway leading to the studio, Vizmund's energy levels went up to a hundred and sped. 

"Hey!" Bea tried to make him stop but he didn't seem to have heard him. "Vizmund,  _ mora _ \--"

Her command was cut off in her throat when she saw the dog stopped in front of someone. 

It was  _ her _ . The redhead lady named Skye from the courtyard, except she was dressed differently. Lighter, in a blue formal dress without dark lipstick and makeup this time. She was crouching down to pet Vizmund's white fluffy head.  _ Did Vizmund just abandon me, his own best friend and master, to this girl he just saw days ago? _ The dog is a friendly one, but he didn't usually approach strangers like that.

Bea nodded for Maria to go ahead inside and approach the two. "Skye, right?”

Skye looked up, her tiny smile dropping and stood up to curtsy. "Good evening, Your Highness."

"Vizmund seemed to have taken a liking on you." She pointed out. 

To prove her point, Vizmund started circling around them.

The redhead raised her eyebrows at the statement. "I'm not trying to steal your dog, Your Highness. In fact, he's the one who keeps finding me. 

"No, no, that's not what I'm trying to say." Bea laughed. "It's just a curious thing when he does that to a total stranger, which never happened till now. Have you been here long, Skye? I know almost everyone that stays in this palace, but I don't remember having seen you around until recently."

"I've only been here a week." Skye said, as if there was something she was dreading to say.

Again, Bea saw the look of mild panic in the girl's blue eyes. The look that said how she couldn't wait to get away from her. Skye knew that if she stays longer, Bea will be asking more questions. 

"Skye, darling, what were you lingering about out there? The Report's just about to start." A very familiar voice spoke from behind them. Lady Crandall walked over, gripping a firm hand on Skye's arm that made the latter wince. If it was possible, the look of panic in Skye's face tripled after that. Lady Crandall was pleasantly surprised when she saw her. The woman looked from her to Skye. "Your Highness, I didn't know you've met my daughter." 

_ Daughter? _ Bea wondered, suddenly forgotten what that word meant for a second until it finally sunk in.  _ Wait, DAUGHTER?? _

_ Skye is a Crandall? A goddamn Crandall? _ Bea felt like her brain short-circuited from that information. It was obvious; the red hair, the pale complexion brought by the cold weather up North, the sudden appearance just after the Selection started… So why was she surprised? 

Skye forced a gracious smile that looked a bit like her mother's. Her eyes, though, expressed differently, as if she was wishing for the cold marble floor to open up and just drag her down to hell. 

Bea recovered quickly from her shock. "Yes, we've met. I've been seeing her around here lately. I didn't know you have a daughter, my lady. You've never brought them over to the palace before."

"My son, Brian, had been left to take charge of our subjects back home in Lakedon since his father got a position on the board, but my dear Skye here," Mrs. Crandall looked at her daughter with a smile, something Bea wasn't sure was real or not. "Was just not... ready to be here."

"Ready?" Bea asked, turning to Skye.

"I'm afraid my Skye grew up to have some  _ unusual _ habits and can't seem to grasp how to dress and look the proper way." The woman answered for her daughter.

Bea raised an eyebrow. "I don't see anything wrong with how she dressed, my lady. I thought she looked quite lovely." 

"You're too kind, Princess." Lady Crandall forced out a chuckle then suddenly pointing to the studio. "Oh look at that, I think the Report's starting in a minute!"

Before Bea turned, she shot the two Crandall ladies with a look and a nod then walked into the studio with Vizmund on her heels. The white dog went to a spot on a corner near the platform as Bea was led to her seat, everyone bowed and curtsied at the three of them and the credits started rolling. 

  * ••



  
  


"Alright, Your Highness, you gotta tell us…" Carson looked at her dramatically and the cameras and audience turned to her as well. "Have you asked any of these gentlemen on a date yet?"

Bea shook her head and laughed, feigning a surprised look on her face as she faced Carson. "Aw, come on, Carson! I thought you were gonna ask them questions, not me?"

"Sorry, my lady," The guy grinned. "We just couldn't help it. I speak for everyone when I say I'm  _ very _ curious."

"Sadly, I haven't." Bea answered anyway, knowing it was going to disappoint everyone watching the Report that night. "But I'm going to very soon. It had been such a busy week and it’s been a lot of adjustments for everyone, so I was letting them settle first before the dating starts."

"Is that it?" Carson gives her a playfully suspicious look. "Or you just can't choose?"

"Oh my god, that is one reason," she agreed. "I've met all of them and I can tell you, they are the finest young men of Solari and I couldn't wait to really get to know them."

"Her Highness will have a bit of a busy schedule coming up." Carson remarked to the cameras, raising his eyebrow comically that made the audience laugh. "I'm sure you all have a lot of questions for our dear Princess, and feel free to send those questions to my office to be asked next time but for now…" He walked towards the risers on his left where the twenty-two suitors had been sitting. He stopped in front of the cute boy from Sota. "Let's have a few words with our gentlemen over here. Robbie?"

"A pleasure to meet you, sir." Robbie stood up, a sweet smile on his face.

"How are you adjusting to life here at the palace?"

"Like Her Highness said, it has been quite the adjustment for all us. A pleasant adjustment, for me and my fellow suitors. The Princess made sure we are all comfortable during our stay and I'm already making friends."

"I heard how friendships really do develop during the Selection. Thank you, Robbie." Carson moved on to another suitor a few seats down. "What about you, sir?"

"I'm Jordan. Jordan Lee." The guy spoke to the cameras, an easy smile on his face. "So far there's only been one problem for me since I got here."

Bea looked at him at once, wondering if something else happened after the arguments they all had during their first breakfast together.

"Oh my, what is it?" Carson raised his eyebrows.

"I've been here a week now, almost," Jordan went on. "And I really couldn't get to one place without bothering one of the guards about where I am." The puzzled look on his face made everyone laugh. "Seriously. One moment you thought this door was the restroom and you somehow end up in the kitchens."

"So many doors," Dakota agreed. 

"Sir Dakota! You've gotten lost too?" Carson pushed the microphone to him. 

"More than I want to admit." 

"You just need to count the doors in your head as you walk," Andy advised. "And wish the heavens that it’s your bedroom."

"Well, we do have one gentleman here who's been familiar with the palace." Carson moved to Rory. "Our very own Angeles representative."

"Oh no!" Rory laughed. "That was a long time ago. I remember running through the palace halls, but I don't remember which halls."

The audience seemed to be amused by the suitors' stories. 

Carson turned to the only redhead boy among them. "So, Sir Brian, as the only suitor who had been raised in an impressive manor, I suppose you didn't need much help going around."

"That's right," Brian nodded. His smile would have been charming if not for the strange glint in his eyes, as if he was planning something devious. Once he stood, his parents and a good part of the board clapped their hands. "It feels like I didn't leave home at all. Although I didn't need help…," Brian suddenly looked up at Bea. "The Princess, in all her grace, offered to show me around and who was I to say no?"

Bea was dumbfounded. She hadn't shown any of them around the palace, and if she had to, Brian would be the last person she would ask. Judging from the glint in his eyes, him making up that story was very much intentional. She looked at his parents and she could see how proud they were, but the youngest Crandall wasn't seated among them. Bea spotted Skye on the back of the audience near the cameras, watching the proceedings from the safe distance as if she would prefer to be anywhere but here at the moment. Their eyes met, and the intense look in the girl's eyes caused her heartbeat to pick up so Bea had to avert her gaze back to the show.

Brian's story caught Carson's interest. "I think we need to hear more about this. I don't understand why Her Highness chose to keep this from us."

"Oh, it's not much." Brian shrugged. "We just walked around, she showed me some of the beautiful places to see. We had a lovely time."

Bea narrowed her eyes, very suspicious of whatever Brian was trying to accomplish. She would have called him out on it, but based on the glare her grandfather sent her, she knew she would never get away with it. Not that she would want to make herself look bad on television anyways.

She sat politely and smiled, nodded when Carson asked her if it was true, but she was sulking inside. She was the Princess of Solari, the heir to the crown. She was going to be queen one day, and she was expected to just let this man walk all over her? What would happen if she was forced to marry him? She would technically have more power than him, but what if he found some way to manipulate her and her advisors? 

The guy from Bankston was stuttering his way through a simple question that Carson had asked him when Bea started paying attention to the  _ Report _ again. She cursed herself internally, knowing that listening to how the boys spoke in public would be one of the best ways to get to know them and to decide who to eliminate next. Knowing the King Father, he wouldn’t let her go another week without sending at least a few more of the boys home.

_ When did my life get so controlled? _ Bea thought back, knowing that she became aware of the extent of her grandfather’s control over her life when he’d forced her to have a Selection. But she knew that ever since Leon’s death, she’d been kept on a short leash. She was the heir, and most importantly, she wasn’t nearly as educated on those issues as Leon had been. She was almost as old now as he had been when he’d been killed, but he’d had education on how to be the perfect monarch all his life. Sure, Bea and Ian had been taught as well, but not nearly as rigorously. Leon had always complained to them, in good humor of course, about all the extra lessons that came with being heir. Now Bea had to learn that much, if not more, in a much shorter time period.

Bea fixed her eyes on a random spot on the wall, trying to avoid freaking herself out and losing her concentration on the matter at hand. She couldn’t reverse what had happened to her parents and Leon. She couldn’t go back in time and have been born three minutes after Ian, either. Lamenting over her own lack of control wasn’t going to help her get any of it back. If the King Father had ever said anything useful, it was that she had to learn to take what she wanted instead of just hoping it would be given to her.

The Bankston guy finally shut up, and Carson mercifully moved on to Ajay.

“What do you think you have to offer to the Princess, and more importantly, to Solari?”

Ajay only had to think for a moment, and Bea thought even that was just to give the illusion of spontaneity. Ajay always seemed to know the right thing to say, and he was very articulate when he went about saying it. Maybe Bea would have to get him to teach her how to speak in public with such ease.

“Realism, sir,” Ajay said. “Any country has weaknesses to go alongside their strengths, and the best kind of leader sees both of these things as a unique identity for their country. My father’s time as diplomat to New Asia taught me this. He always told me that countries who ignore the weakest, the poorest, and the most vulnerable are always the countries that see the least success. If I were offered the Princess’ hand in marriage and the position as Royal Advisor that came with it, I would use my wisdom and my father’s experience to manage Solari’s weaknesses as well as exploiting its strengths, so that the nation might improve as a whole.”

Bea clapped alongside everyone else as Ajay finished his speech and sat down, and she shot him a smile which he returned. Though there was much Ajay had to learn about the different compromises inherent in being a leader rather than a diplomat, Bea could tell that he understood how to use power responsibly. She had really liked that he wanted to focus on fixing the country’s weaknesses. That was what the rebels were always angry about, right? That the Ones, Twos and Threes kept making breakthroughs and scientific discoveries and philosophical methodologies while Sixes, Sevens and Eights went without basic medical care or even necessities such as homes and hot meals. Bea knew that progress was important, but as Ajay had articulated, the progress needed to spread evenly throughout all the people in the country.

Carson gestured to Bea, and she belatedly realized that she was supposed to respond in some way before Carson could wrap up the  _ Report _ .

“Some of these young men have expressed unique ideas tonight,” Bea said, a vague statement meant to encompass both Ajay’s and Brian’s viewpoints, as well as whatever the heck the Bankston guy had said about taxes. “I think many of them would make a fine advisor to the Crown, and Solari would be lucky to have their wisdom and experience.”

Only after she finished speaking did she realize she’d stolen half of her last sentence from what Ajay had said, which definitely sent the message that she favored him, or at least his idea. Brian scowled from the corner while the camera was turned away. Bea hadn’t even meant to, but the fact that she’d made Brian mad made it sweeter.

“Fine words from our Princess, and as she phrased it, some very  _ unique _ takes from our Selected. Time will tell which of these fine Sons of Solari will capture her heart.”

With that, Carson signed off, and the red indicators on the cameras blinked off. Bea relaxed marginally, letting go of her smile now that the whole country wasn’t hanging on to her every word. Brian whispered something to Max, and then disappeared, probably in search of his parents to rain their praises down on him. 

Ajay looked like he wanted to talk to her, but he didn’t approach her, so Bea guessed he was waiting politely for her to go to him. She figured she might as well, because then she could avoid talking to her grandfather.

Ajay bowed as she approached. “Your Highness,” he said.

“Please, just Bea,” Bea waved her hand. Ajay looked a bit scandalized, but he tried to hide it.

“Alright, Bea,” he said hesitantly. “I was worried that I’d crossed a line, openly disagreeing with your grandfather’s work on national television.”

Bea smirked despite the anxiety obvious on the guy’s face. “Maybe to him, but it seemed just right to me.”

“Truly?”   
  


Bea nodded. “It was a bold thing to say on your first official  _ Report _ , but I for one appreciated your input.” Bea found that the words were true as they easily left her mouth.

Ajay dipped his head. “I-- thank you. I just try to speak the truth, though it’s gotten me in trouble before.”

“That’s a good trait to have,” Bea said, grinning. “I have to go, but thank you for speaking up,” she said. “You’re very articulate.”

Ajay dipped his head again, and then strode off, probably eager to get started on dinner. In fact, most of the boys seemed on-edge and hungry, so Bea spoke above the crowd to dismiss them all to dinner.

She hung behind, though, thinking she’d heard an argument somewhere. And sure enough, in the corner of the studio, the Crandalls had cornered their daughter.

“You didn’t even sit with us,” Loretta was saying, “So why would you deign to be seen with us at dinner?”

“I… I didn’t want to be on camera,” Skye said, her voice shaking just a little. “You said yourselves that you’re ashamed of me, I thought  _ you _ wouldn’t want to be seen with  _ me _ .”

“That was before the Princess knew about you,” Rodger sighed, exasperation clear in his voice. “Now we have to present ourselves as a family unit. Did you even think about how bad you made us look? Or were you just thinking about yourself?”

Skye apparently had nothing to say to this, so there was silence for a few moments before Rodger sighed again.

“I told you we should have just left her at home,” he said to his wife. 

“And miss the valuable opportunity to match her with Prince Ian? I don’t think so.”

“That won’t be happening unless she stops dressing so… outlandishly,” Rodger pointed back, his last words spoken with utter disgust.

“I’m right here,” Skye said, her voice angry. “You’re talking to me like I’m not even there.”

“What difference does it make?” Loretta asked her. “You’re just going to disagree with whatever we say on principle. But no, you won’t be having dinner. You’ll spend the night in your room, and try not to mess things up for Brian.”

“I’m so proud that he got the first date with Beatrice,” Rodger said. “Even if it was just showing him around the castle, the fact that she picked him really means something.”

“Of course the Princess has good taste. She’s Theodore’s granddaughter after all. She must take after her parents less than we feared.”

Bea had been holding herself back from bursting into their conversation in Skye’s defense the whole time, but she would have lost control entirely at the disrespect that the Crandalls gave her late parents had a hand not slid itself into hers.

She whipped around, but it was just Grace, standing there wide-eyed. She had heard a lot of the conversation as well, having waited for Bea to emerge from the studio. She’d come inside just as the Crandalls had started praising Brian, and she looked just as angry as Bea did.

Bea let Grace lead her out of the studio and into the hallway leading to the dining room.

“Can you make sure Skye gets dinner in her room tonight?” Bea asked Grace. “I heard them say they aren’t letting her come to dinner.”

“Of course. They’re awful,” Grace responded. “I’m friends with one of her maids, and they have only nice things to say about her. Her parents are a different matter altogether. I’ve heard their maids already say they’re unreasonable and extremely demanding, and Brian's butler, well, he's been here less than a week but...”

Bea frowned. It looked like she wasn’t the only one who resented the Crandalls’ treatment of others.

“Get one of the good plates for Skye and have her maids serve it to her in her room,” Bea decided. “I won’t talk to them about it now, but if this continues, I’ll have to.”

“Good luck at dinner,” Grace said, squeezing Bea’s arm. “Oh, and before I forget, who do you think you’re going to have your first date with?”

Bea bit her lip. “I haven’t decided quite yet, but I have a few guys in mind.”

“Is  _ Rory _ one of them?” Grace teased, her eyebrows raised.

“Maybe,” Bea teased back, sticking her tongue out at the other girl. “Alright, go do what you need to do. Come back soon after dinner, though, because you’re going to have to help me decide about that date.”

Grace nodded, and the two girls parted ways.

***

As Grace navigated the back way into the kitchen, heading downstairs through the servants’ quarters and then back up through the food storage area instead of the direct way through the dining hall, she had a lot on her mind.

Most of it was pity. She’d been in Skye’s position before: blatantly unfavored, sent to bed without dinner for the mildest of grievances, gaslit into believing she was worthless. It had all gotten better once she’d started working in the castle, but still. She felt for the redhead.

On her way to the kitchens, she’d located Skye’s head maid, Lea. Lea was a woman in her thirties, who could be harsh but had a kind heart. Grace explained what had happened, and Lea went off immediately to prepare a meal cart. Grace just had to pick up a serving from the kitchen and bring it to her.

Easier said than done. The kitchen was bustling with activity, the cooks and servers working at full capacity to feed the large number of people. It was like this every Friday night, feeding far more than usual to account for the people who came to the palace just for the  _ Report _ and for dinner.

After climbing up the dumb trapdoor in the vegetable cooler, which was a very stupid place to put one of the only back entrances to the kitchens, she wove her way through the kitchen with practiced ease. She only almost collided with servers twice, but she counted that as a victory. At least nobody spilled anything this time.

She quickly picked up one of the servings from the far end of the table, which was where Chef Louis was putting the freshest servings. She shot the older man a smile as she picked up the food and set it on a tray.

“And just where are you going with that, missy?” asked a voice behind her. Greg Williams, the man who had taken her in like his own daughter, tried to act suspicious when he saw the food Grace was carrying. 

“The Crandalls’ daughter isn’t at dinner,” Grace explained. “Bea asked me to make sure she got some food.”

“Is she okay?” Greg asked, immediately concerned. He didn’t even know Skye, but he was still worried about her. As someone who had grown up as a Six, he was always worried about anybody who didn’t have enough food. That was one of the reasons he’d taken Grace in, and it was one of the things that made him the best man in the palace in nearly servant’s opinion.

“She’s fine, I think her parents have some issue with her not sitting with them earlier.”

Greg scowled. “That’s no reason to deprive the poor girl of her dinner. Here, let me whip something special up for her for dessert.”

Grace sat on a stool in the meantime, stealing bites of scrapped food from the edges of Greg’s stove. There was nothing wrong with it, but it was cuts of meat deemed too damaged or too fatty for royal consumption, and it was most of what the servants got to eat at the end of the evening. Greg didn’t protest her taking any, though. He never did, he just slapped her fingers with his plastic spatula lightly, serving only to make her laugh.

“Did you see the full  _ Report _ ?” she asked.

“I saw all of Bea’s portion,” Greg said. “I was too busy with meal prep during the King Father’s speech. Did that Brian boy really get Bea to give him a private tour of the palace?”

“Definitely not,” Grace said. “I don’t know who he thinks he is, lying about that on TV. I’m supposed to meet Bea after dinner and help her decide who gets the first date tomorrow morning.”

“If you ask me, which nobody does, my vote’s for Rory. He was a nice kid, and it seems like he’s really grown into himself.”

Grace nodded. “But we all just favor Rory because we know him,” she pointed out. 

“That’s true. My second choice would be Ajay. He seems really intelligent, but I don’t know him very well.”

“He’s a bit intense,” Grace said with a laugh, remembering how he’d stared them all down at the introduction. “But yes, he seems very well-educated.”

Greg shook his head. “There’s a difference between intelligent and educated, Grace. Brian Crandall is well-educated, but not intelligent. You and I, we’re intelligent but not well-educated. I think Ajay is both.”

“Then Bea should hold on to him,” Grace said. “Seems like that’s rare.”

“In the world of politics, definitely.” With that, Greg slid two buttery rolls onto the tray Grace was holding. “Tell her it’s compliments of the chef.”

“I will. And thanks for the advice.”

Greg waved his spatula in the air, accidentally hitting Chef Louis with a slice of tomato. The man scowled at him, but it was clearly just a joke. Nobody could hold a grudge against Greg for very long.

“If everyone followed my advice, I wouldn’t be in this kitchen,” Greg said. “Or maybe I would, but I’d be at least a Four.”

_ And I’d be a Two, _ Grace thought. But instead, she just waved goodbye and went off in search of Lea to deliver Skye’s meal. On a whim, she folded the girl’s napkin into an origami cat while she was waiting. Maybe that would put a smile on the redhead’s face. 

***

A walk around the garden with the morning sun shining brightly above them and the scent of flowers brought about by the warm Angeles air is exactly what Bea needed that day. 

Her mother, the late Queen, used to bring her along to morning walks around the palace grounds when she was little. Other times, when their father and Leon were on important business, their mother would even bring her and Ian to walk by the lake and show them where to find the berries. There was a clearing located there, which was filled with berries that they can pick and munch on, Bea remembered coming home to the palace proudly parading a small basket of red berries in her arms that she gathered with Ian. 

Their mother used to tell her how those morning walks would help clear her mind and even soul if Bea thought about it. She couldn't agree more, especially now that she was starting to realize how these tiny moments of solitude can really affect and help her hold onto her sanity when she was really close to losing it. Luckily, she has all the courtyards and gardens around the palace at her disposal. 

The only thing different today was that Vizmund didn't get to go with her. The white dog was being bathed and groomed by Grace. Still, Bea opted to go on her own anyway before her responsibilities would come knocking on her door. She had so much in her mind, even more after everything that happened during the  _ Report _ the night before. 

Brian making up that story about the  _ supposed _ private tour that she so kindly offered to him... Bea was starting to see what he was trying to do. Brian Crandall is willing to fabricate lies and stories to get what he wants, a ruse to get ahead of the others in a competition so clearly rigged for his benefits. There was only one thing he was hoping to achieve: the crown, and he couldn't care less about anything else. 

During breakfast, Maria handed her the newspapers and Bea saw how effective Brian's techniques had been. The sight of his name on top of the ranking almost made her breakfast hurl out of her stomach. A good amount of their people were rooting for them to be together. One article stated how the two of them were a match made for the crown. That was enough for her to set the newspaper aside, leave breakfast and find a way to take the horrible image of her and Brian out of her mind.

Bea knew she needed to do something. The people are getting antsy. They couldn't wait to see what happens next. She had kept the suitors at bay for as much as she can but now she had to start putting the Selection into motion.

She was by the clear marble fountain in the middle of the east garden when a maid approached her with a curtsy. 

"Your Highness?" The girl asked.

Bea held out a folded note that she had written a while ago. "Find Sir Caleb's butler and tell him I want his master to have it. Immediately." 

"Right away, my lady." The maid nodded eagerly and rushed to deliver the letter. 

Her choosing Caleb as her first date will come as a surprise to everyone. She didn't know where to start, and she wouldn't let Brian to have the satisfaction to be her first date for real. She could have chosen Rory but she knew it would displease her grandfather. In the end, she decided to go for the only guy who showed her genuine kindness when they were nothing but strangers. 

She moved ahead, knowing she still has time before she was supposed to meet Caleb. Looking around, something on the bell tower caught her eye. 

There on top, she could see someone sitting by the arc window and based on the bright red hair, Bea knew exactly who it was and headed there right away. 

It was a bit of a hike on the way to the location of the tower, and climbing four storeys worth of winding stairs was too much of a work out for her. At last, she reached the top floor and she saw her. 

Skye Crandall was fearlessly perched on the concrete banister on the tower windows just wide enough for her to sit on without falling off the tower to the ground below. The girl was curled up in a ball, her head buried on her knees as the wind blew her red hair gently. Her shoulders were shaking, and the muffled noise coming from her sounded like sniffles. 

As soon as she stepped on the landing though, the redhead girl looked up in alarm and Bea realized from the fresh tears falling down Skye's cheeks that she was crying. Her mascara had made stains on her wet cheeks and under her red-rimmed eyes.

Skye wiped her cheeks furiously. "Vizmund isn't here if that's what you came for."

Bea was grateful Skye wasn't jumpy considering the spot she was sitting on. She gave the girl a tiny smile which was met by a very confused frown. "Wasn't here for him."

"What do you want?" Skye cleared her throat, her voice sounded rough and strained from crying. "...Your Highness."

“I overheard you talking to your parents after the  _ Report _ last night,” Bea started carefully. “I noticed they didn’t let you come to dinner, so I had your maid bring dinner up to your rooms. I can’t believe your parents would do something like that.”

Unexpectedly, Skye immediately turned defensive. “You were eavesdropping? What, you think just because you’re the princess of Solari and because my brother’s your… your property, that I am too?”   
  


Bea backed up, unsure why the girl was so angry. “What? Of course I don’t think that. I wasn’t eavesdropping, I just heard.”   
  


“You just happened to hear a private conversation with my parents?” Skye fired back. “Come on, I know we’re beneath you, but don’t we deserve any privacy?”

“I was worried!” Bea defended herself. “I know what the Crandalls are like, I’ve worked with them for all the years they’ve been on the Council. I got a bad feeling when your mom introduced you like she was ashamed of you, and I just wanted to watch out for you.”

Skye glared. "Don't bother. I don't need your help. It's been like this my entire life and I made it okay."

Her eyes widened. "Your entire life?"

The girl averted her gaze. "It's none of your business."

There was a silence between them that stretched out for a few minutes. Bea stood awkwardly near the stairs, unsure whether to go but in her mind, she wanted to at least know if there was anything she could do about it. She had the occasional scolding or underhanded insults from her grandfather but nothing like what she saw the Crandalls did to their own daughter? Bea feared if they had done something worse to Skye.

Skye stared at the distance in an attempt to shut her off, sighing heavily when she spoke a few moments later. "Please leave me alone."

"I'm not leaving a friend when I know she clearly needs someone to talk to." Bea replied gently. She walked across the room and stood by the window, leaning on the banister. She made sure to keep a comfortable distance between them. "Or just be here."

"You talk as if we were friends." 

"Vizmund likes you." She pointed out. "Just that reason is enough to call you a friend."

Skye let out a bitter chuckle. "You think something as simple as the magic of friendship can make my parents see and treat me like a daughter rather than a doll to groom and show off the way they decided I am? Make them proud of me even when I turned out to be the opposite of what they want? I know you're a princess, but this isn't something you can solve with a friendly smile."

"I don't intend to solve it, Skye. I don't think I can if I wanted to. But I have time to listen."

"Do you?" Skye said dryly. "Don't you have a lot of more important matters to deal with right now? This isn't something you'd want to listen to."

"Come on, have you tried to talk about it to someone else?" She asked, but the other girl's silence was an answer enough. "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you say, it's safe with me."

Skye shook her head, looking at her in disbelief. "You're stubborn."

" _ You _ are being stubborn." Bea countered back. 

"Fine." The redhead sighed once more as she wiped her cheeks with her hands. "If it's gonna get you off my back and leave me alone, I suppose it's not the worse thing that can happen."

"Have they always been like that?"

"Not really." Skye played with the helm of her black dress. "They used to be gentler, strict but not as controlling and I think it's due to the fact that I was a kid and they were able to dress me the way they want… Then I grew up, and Brian grew up too. The two of us having a different view of the world made our parents decide that Brian is the golden boy and I'm the disappointment."

Bea scoffed, shaking her head. "Some golden boy that he is."

"I see you're not as pliable to his charms as most people are."

"I'm not as shallow as my title makes it seem I am."

"Anyways,” Skye said, “Brian grew up exactly the way our parents hoped he would. In Lakedon, kids our age would either dream of becoming like him, or fear him."

"And your parents hid you away,” Bea concluded. “Because you didn’t act how they wanted you to.”

“Act, or dress, or speak,” Skye said with a roll of her eyes. “So I gave up on trying to be the perfect daughter they wanted, and I started being the person I wanted to be. And it meant they left me alone after that. But now that Brian’s in the Selection, they forced me to come with them.”

“Why now?” Bea wondered. “If they were okay with hiding you before, why do they want you seen with them now?”

“I think they want to set me up with a nobleman,” Skye replied resentfully. “So that I can finally be useful to them. They’re upset because I’m not really interested in the political stuff they do.”

"A nobleman… like Ian?" Bea realized, recalling something that Lady Crandall said the night before, and she couldn't help but laugh a little. 

The redhead gave her a strange look. "It might seem funny but my parents will try their best to make that happen."

"Okay, firstly," she said, trying to stop herself from laughing even more, "I um, I just can't imagine you being with Ian at all because in reality, he might be scared of you." 

For the first time since Bea had met the girl, a small smile appeared on her face. It was more of a smirk, really, but Bea was willing to take what she could get.

“Good,” Skye said. “He should be.”

Bea looked at the girl as the rising sun hit her, seeming to set her red hair on fire. She took in the girl’s outfit today: a more casual combination of a black skirt and a red blouse, but still with the fishnets and combat boots she’d been in the other day. It suited her.

Skye turned to look back at Bea and noticed the princess looking at her.

“...what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do I look messier than I'm thinking?”

“What? No,” Bea said, quickly looking at something, anything else. “You… your hair is really red. That’s it.”

Skye twirled a lock of red hair between two fingers. “Yeah, I used to want to dye it black. But they never let me, and honestly I’m kind of glad, ‘cause I like the way it looks now.”

Bea just nodded, and looked out on the gardens. Noticing the high position of the sun and seeing how far along the guards were on their morning jog, she realized she had spent more time there than she had intended.

“Well, I have to go,” Bea said, getting up and dusting her dress off. 

“Another date with my brother?” Skye asked sarcastically.

“Thankfully, no. I’m seeing Caleb this morning.”

“Good luck,” Skye said, and it almost sounded genuine. 

On her way to meet Caleb in the gardens, Bea cast a glance back up at the tower. Skye was still sitting there, her blue eyes watching something in the gardens. Bea smiled. She was glad she’d been able to have a non-confrontational conversation with the Crandall girl.


	6. Fetch?

Caleb Mitchell was pacing around the picnic table by the time Bea reached the garden after her talk with Skye.

She couldn't help but smile. He seemed quite nervous, but despite the sudden invitation, Caleb managed to look good. Bea was expecting him to go all out, whip up the good old dinner coat and bowtie and a large bouquet of flowers, but what she was seeing turned out to be a pleasant surprise.

He was dressed in a simple black shirt and dark pants, a pair of leather sneakers and a gray double-breasted blazer that gave him an air of elegance while still being casual attire. Caleb hadn't seen her coming yet, the guy was too busy pacing and making slight gestures with his hands and Bea realized he must be rehearsing some kind of a speech for her.

Bea approached him with a fond smile, stopping a few feet away. "Good morning, Caleb."

The guy froze, turning around, and a smile made its way to his face. "Y-Your Highness!"

"I think it's better if you can call me Bea."

"Bea." Caleb met her halfway, bowing and kissing her hand. "Good morning. I-I…You have no idea how happy I was when I read your note as soon as I woke up."

"I'm glad. How about a picnic for breakfast, Caleb?" 

"I saw the maids carrying these baskets over on my way here," Caleb led her to the table, pulling the chair for her. "I realized you must have ordered them earlier but I wanted to do something for you at least so I took the baskets from them."

"You set this up?" Bea scanned the beautiful arrangement on the picnic table, and the flowers in the middle looked freshly cut. She reached across the table to touch the pink roses and asters. "These are beautiful, Caleb."

"Yeah, about those…" Caleb hesitated, and she hoped he hadn't stolen them from the gardens because there was only so much a princess could do to appease a very angry gardener. "I found the gardener and I noticed he wasn't very happy when I asked if I could have some of the flowers for our picnic table. I thought he was gonna send me away."

Bea laughed at the horrified look on his face. "Don't take it personally. Mr. Collins had always been protective of his flowers but that was only because he really takes good care of them."

"Gladly, I didn't have to resort to stealing, but a severe scolding would have been worth it if it meant I get to see you smile because of them." 

She was too flustered to come up with a good response. As if God took pity on her lack of flirting skills, a couple of people came over and she recognized one of them as Erin. Her cameraman carried his equipment with him. 

Caleb cast a nervous glance at the cameras, and Bea tried to distract him by digging into the food. It seemed to relax him a bit, and they started talking.

“So, besides potentially being a flower thief, what else have you been doing around the palace?”

Caleb shrugged as he swallowed. “Mmm, a little of this, a little of that. Some of the guys like playing tennis on the courts, and sometimes we have goal-scoring competitions on the soccer field. Maria’s been pressing our noses to the grindstone with the history and etiquette lessons too.”

“I’ll bet she did,” Bea snorted. “Maria’s just like that.”

“She’s definitely intense,” Caleb grinned. “But it’s really awesome of her to put in the effort to teach all of us. She’s a good teacher.”

“Hmm, maybe I’ll see if she wants to be a tutor once this is over,” Bea said, mostly to herself. 

“So, Bea, what’s your favorite thing to do around the palace?”

Bea considered for a second, but then she caught sight of Vizmund’s fluffy form trotting around the garden chasing butterflies, and she knew what her response would be.

“Vizmund and I come out here almost every sunny day,” she said, nodding her head to indicate the dog, who had now stuck his head in one of the hedges. “We like playing fetch. It’s probably my favorite part of the day.”

Caleb smiled. “That sounds nice. Like a peaceful part of your day before all the madness and politics kicks in.”

They watched in comfortable silence as Vizmund messed around with the bushes. Caleb looked at her as if he was asking permission so she nodded. He went to the nearest bush hoping to find a stick or a piece of wood before he let out a loud whistle, which got Vizmund's attention and the white dog ran to their table. 

"Hey, buddy," Caleb crouched in front of the dog and held out his hand. 

"Sir Caleb, this is Sir Vizmund of Angeles." Bea told him. "And Vizmund, meet Sir Caleb."

Vizmund happily raised his paw so Caleb could shake it. From the distance, she could hear the clicking of cameras but she decided to just ignore them altogether. 

Bea joined the two of them and she leaned down to scratch the back of Vizmund's ear. "Wanna play fetch, Vizmund?"

"Okay, here we go!" Caleb threw the stick about thirty feet away.

Vizmund didn't move. His eyes didn’t even track the stick. The fluffy dog just stared at Caleb, completely still.

“Fetch!” Caleb said in a voice specifically designed to get the dog excited, patting his legs as he did so. But the dog didn’t move, still just looking up at Caleb, his tail wagging back and forth quickly. 

“...Fetch?” Caleb said one last time, and it sounded more like a request than a command. When Vizmund still didn’t move, two sets of brown eyes turned on Bea. Caleb’s were a plea for help and Vizmund’s were just waiting for a command to go get the stick.

“ _ Accio _ , Vizmund.” Bea said quietly, and the minute the word left her mouth, Vizmund was off like a shot, running to where the stick had landed and bringing it back to Caleb. 

Caleb looked at Bea with an amused expression. “You taught him fetch in a different language?”

“All of his commands are in Latin,” Bea explained. 

“Why?”

Bea shrugged. “Half for security, half just because I felt like it.”

Caleb shook his head, but a smile persisted on his face. He took the stick gently from Vizmund’s mouth, then threw it again, carefully pronouncing the command. Vizmund happily ran off to find the stick.

“He’s a very good boy,” Caleb said later, when he and Bea were lounging back on the blanket. Vizmund had taken the stick and ran off back to the palace. “When did you get him?”

“My parents and I found him roaming around the grounds about four years ago,” Bea told him. “He was barely a year old and we still don’t know how he got in. Probably one of the maids thought he was cute and let him in. He’s really smart, but it still took a lot of convincing to get Mom to let me and Ian keep him.”

“So the Royal Dog used to be a stray,” Caleb concluded. “And now he runs the palace.”

“A true rags-to-riches story,” Bea laughed.

She and Caleb fell into a comfortable silence until the guards passed by, stopping their jog to offer the Princess a bow before starting back up. Caleb was watching the guards thoughtfully.

“My brother was in the military,” he said, his eyes getting a far away look in them. “He was drafted a few years ago.”

“Was?” Bea asked. Most military positions were for life.

“He went missing after about a year of service,” Caleb said, a dark tone creeping into his voice. “They searched for him for months in New Asia, but he’s been assumed dead for a long time now. He and his squad, actually.”

Bea frowned. “Caleb, I’m so sorry,” she said, feeling weirdly guilty. Wasn’t it her fault, technically, that his brother had been killed in service of his country? Couldn’t she have done something to stop the seemingly endless war with New Asia?

Unfortunately, Caleb read the guilt on her face. “It’s not your fault,” he insisted. “I don’t really know enough about the war to assign blame, but I know the blame doesn’t fall on you.”

Bea chewed on her lip. Caleb started looking very uncomfortable.

“Hey, do you want to check out the orchards?” Bea asked, trying to change the subject.

“Definitely,” Caleb smiled, happily going along with it. “What kinds of trees do you have?”

As they walked through the orchard, Bea realized her first impressions of Caleb had been right. He was a very kind guy, generous and forgiving. He had every right to hate her and her family for the fact that his brother had been killed, but he didn’t. There were a few times that he could’ve expressed frustration that Vizmund wouldn’t play fetch, but he just laughed it off.

Erin and the cameras left at some point, and Bea took her leave from Caleb. She blushed a little too hard when he bent to kiss her hand, and desperately hoped that nobody would notice. 

  
  


  * ••



  
  


The rest of her morning and after lunch was spent in the main study where she and her grandfather usually worked or held board meetings but today, it was just her sitting at the wide mahogany desk rippling through a pile of folders. 

Hearing about Caleb's brother's death triggered something in her memory. She tried to remember what it was, she could almost taste it from the tip of her tongue but it slipped away whenever she tried to remember it.

In the end, she decided to do some research, hoping it would satisfy her curiosity and the memory would somehow come to her if she looked more into it. 

Bea managed to obtain one piece of information, though. Caleb's brother, Ezra Mitchell, was drafted more than a couple of years ago and was one of the unlucky ones to be sent to the war in New Asia. According to his files, Ezra passed all the military training they put him under with flying colours, most of which were led by Frank himself back when he was working on the field. Ezra's superiors reported nothing but good praise for the young cadet which didn't surprise Bea when she read how Ezra rose to the level of Second Lieutenant in just a year. He was sent to New Asia with the First Lieutenant and his platoon and later on served under the command of one Captain Julian Castillo.

_ Julian Castillo _ … Bea raised her eyebrows. It dawned on her why Ezra's story was so familiar to her. She heard it before, but only in a different point of view. 

Julian Castillo came from a long line of high ranking military officers who loyally serve the crown and the former kings. Not only did she know about Julian but he was also a great friend to their family. He was her brother Leon's best friend, the two boys growing up together in the palace and were inseparable until Julian was old enough to be drafted. 

Bea remembered how much Leon wanted to go with him, to be trained and serve his country like the brave soldiers do, but Leon was the crown prince. He had a different path, but that wasn't the only reason. Leon was diagnosed with hemophilia at an early age when a bruise on his elbow he obtained from playing wouldn't seem to go away. He lived under constant medical care, which he wasn't so happy about.

Julian, on the other hand, thrived and rose to higher and higher levels until he became captain. Bea could still remember the last time she saw him. He was visiting Leon, saying goodbye because he would be leading his troops to New Asia. Little did they know, that was the last time they would ever see him. 

The battle was a lost cause the moment they landed in New Asia. The troops were ambushed and outnumbered, leaving almost every one of them slaughtered, including Julian. 

Leon mourned his best friend for months while ceremonies were given in honor of every soldier who died during the burial held in the palace once the search for the bodies were closed. The thing is, they didn't find anything except a large amount of ashes and the occasional parts of unidentified soldiers. The only thing they found on Julian were bloody scraps of his uniform and his military dog tag.

Ezra Mitchell was one of those soldiers who never made it home to their families. 

Bea sighed heavily, she was barely fifteen when that happened but the guilt of their deaths seemed to weigh a ton on her shoulders. 

The war was far from over, both in New Asia and the rebels in the country refusing to let everyone live in peace. People--  _ her _ people-- will keep on dying if it doesn't stop. Soon enough, that will be her main problem and one that she was hoping to solve once and for all.

_ No King had ever resolved either of these wars, Beatrice, not a single one of them _ ... a voice in Bea's head said.  _ What makes you think you have what it takes to stop one, if not both of them? _

Shaking the thought out of her head, Bea closed the files and stood up, stretching her back. 

Her office work was done for the day, but that doesn't mean she was free from her duties. As expected, the date with Caleb didn't sit well with her grandfather so he suggested that she should prioritize the more  _ favourable _ suitors first. She knew he meant Brian, but she would hold that off as much as she can and decided to pick the only tolerable guy among the favored suitors.

Bea wondered where the suitors might be. She knew Vizmund would either be taking a nap or was hanging out somewhere in the palace, hopefully with Skye, and Grace was still occupied with chores like the other maids at the moment. 

Next thing she knew, she was walking down the hall on her way to the Great Room where one of the suitors' butler said they might be, having their usual lessons with Maria. 

"...it's not proper."

Bea heard the girl's irate voice before she could reach the door and once she stood by the doorway, she finally saw what Maria had been annoyed about.

"Michael Harrison, I'm telling you one last time," Maria took a deep calming breath. "Take your feet off the table."

"What even is wrong with that?" Michael asked, not at all fazed as he waved his sneakers on the table. "We're having a lesson, I'm listening."

"That is not the proper way to sit." Maria said slowly, as if she were talking to a disobedient child.

Bea leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms on her chest as she watched them bicker. Maria could be really strict when it came to work, and if something wasn't done right or things didn't go as scheduled, Bea knew her anger was enough to make the devil himself cower. During those weeks of planning and preparing for The Selection, no one was brave enough to defy the girl until now.

As the two continued to argue, Bea took her time to watch the other boys. Most of them were bored, especially Brian. She could practically hear him bragging about knowing every point they were discussing after years of learning from the best tutors in Lakedon. Max was leaning back on his chair, nodding off. The others distracted themselves the only way they could, like Noah, who had been twirling a pen on the table as a means to entertain himself. Bea could count the ones who were actually listening with one hand. Among them were Ajay, Clint, Trevor and Lucas, who had been writing on his notebook in rapid fire speed and at least four different colors of highlighters were set in front of him. Aiden appeared to be taking notes, but after a closer look she could see the musical notes scribbled on the lines of his notebook as he stared in the distance. 

"You had better not behave this way in front of the Princess," Maria regarded them all with exasperation. "Definitely not in front of the King Father, he might not be as lenient as Her Highness when it comes to improper behaviours."

"Yes, yes. When can we just go ahead?" Brian demanded impatiently. "We have more important matters to do than study things I already know."

"Unless you were forgetting, this is part of the Selection and it is mandatory for each and every one of you that are still here to take these lessons." 

The guy rolled his eyes and Bea shook her head. That simple movement caught the suitors' attention and they sat up straight on their seats.  _ Oh, crap _ , Bea sighed heavily. She was caught. Maria, surprised by the change in their postures, turned and Bea smiled at them. 

"Your Highness." Maria dipped in a curtsy. "Have you been there long?"

Bea walked closer, making sure to round the table. "Just long enough." 

Maria shot Michael a look that Bea saw and she raised her eyebrows at the guy. Michael gave her a sheepish smile. Her smile soured a little when she noticed Brian checking her out. 

"Please continue the lessons, Miss Maria, don't let me interrupt." Bea said, pulling on the chair at the end of the table and taking a seat beside Lucas, who had forgotten his notes for once and stared wide-eyed at her. 

Maria picked up her book and continued hesitantly, aware that half of the attention in the room was now on her.

"Y-Your Highness." Lucas stammered, but he was smiling at her like it was Christmas. 

"Hello, Lucas." Bea reached over and studied his highlighters one by one. An idea came to her head and she gave the boy a charming smile. "May I ask for a piece of paper, Lucas?"

"Yes!" He answered way too fast, passing his notebook over to her. "Take as much as you want, my lady."

"Thank you."

She decided to use the blue highlighter and started writing on a piece of paper from Lucas' notebook, covering it with her hand as he tried to peek at what she was writing. Some of the suitors are watching her instead of listening to Maria, averting their gazes whenever Bea raised her eyes from the notes in fear of being caught staring. 

"Here you go." She returned the notebook once she had torn off the piece she wrote on and folded it. Bea tried to read his notes but his handwriting was so rushed and messy that she couldn't even understand a word on it. 

"I've always prided myself in paying close attention to my classes and studies and make sure not to overlook any details." Lucas explained to her. He flipped through the previous pages, which are covered in notes from top to bottom with his messy penmanship. "See?"

"I do see that." Bea nodded with a smile, trying to imitate his enthusiasm. 

Brian snickered a few seats down. "Nerd."

Bea stood up, patting Lucas on the shoulder and making sure every suitor heard her next words. "You're doing great, Lucas."

Lucas practically glowed with pride from her compliment as she made her way to the door. As she passed, she quickly handed Ajay the note she had made by resting her hand on his shoulder for a moment as she made up something to ask Maria about. After she finished up her conversation with Maria and had left the room, she looked back to make sure Ajay had gotten the note. He was reading it, a small smile on his face.

After a day of working with her grandfather on new policy and having her own lessons about Solarian law, it was finally time for dinner. Dinner that evening was a quiet affair, as it always was with the King Father at the head of the table. Ian was sitting near Brian, who had intimidated his way into getting the closest available chair to the princess, and Ian seemed to be thoroughly irritated about having the Crandall spawn sitting so close to the head table. Ajay made less conversation that night than he normally did, perhaps out of fear of the King Father’s wrath or just because he didn’t want to make Bea regret asking to meet him after dinner. 

The King Father led the little conversation that there was, mostly quizzing the suitors that were closest to him. One of the guys, the entirely forgettable blond man from Kent, got so nervous about the King Father directly asking him a question that he had to excuse himself. That didn’t escape Brian’s and Max’s notice, and the two started snickering.

“If he can’t handle one question from the King Father, he’ll never handle being Prince Consort,” Brian said. And as much as Bea didn’t want to, she had to agree with Brian. It might soon be time for another elimination, and that would be an easy choice.

Bea also couldn’t help noticing the discrimination that her grandfather had against the suitors. He approved of the Twos and some of the Threes, and it was evident when he kindly asked them about their hobbies and their family’s work. But then he quizzed some of the lower-casted guys, especially Rory and Jordan, relentlessly. It was like he was trying to prove to Bea that the Selected from the lower castes weren’t worthy of her.

Rory held up impressively under questioning, though, and when he got an event date or a name wrong, he took it in stride, simply smiling and saying he would have to study more that evening. Jordan answered calmly, but Bea could read the tone of annoyance in his voice. However, he was polite enough that the King Father didn’t seem to pick up on it, because he seemed put-out when Jordan answered all of his questions correctly. Jordan cast a glance over to Bea after the King Father had moved his attention to another unfortunate Five who stuttered his way through the answers. Bea simply smiled at Jordan and nodded, letting him know that she’d seen that he’d done well.

After the dessert course was served, Bea took another glance at Ajay, who was digging into his tiramisu. She could see why her grandfather favored him, even though he was a Three: he looked exactly how a gentleman should look, polite and refined, dressed in a simple but put-together brown jodhpuri suit. No doubt he had learned proper etiquette and both Solarian and New Asian history from his parents, so he wouldn’t have struggled as much as the lower-ranking gentlemen during Maria’s lessons.

He might have acted a little strangely at their introduction, but Bea knew her grandfather wanted her to give him a chance. And she appreciated how serious and thoughtful he was, knowing that it would balance her own enthusiastic and outgoing personality well. So all of those factors had culminated in her choosing him for her second date. She’d used the note to ask him to meet her outside of the dining hall directly after dinner, but she didn’t have any plans for what they would do. She figured she would just ask him what he usually did in the evenings, even though it would probably be boring, and they would do that.

True to expectation, he stood waiting outside the dining hall when Bea was finally able to break free from her brother teasing her about her date that morning with Caleb. She didn’t even know how the news had spread to her brother, but he was making goofy faces and kissy noises at her until their grandfather scowled at him and grumbled something about “princely behavior”. That had shut Ian up.

“Ajay,” Bea greeted him. “How are you? Did you enjoy dinner?”

“Absolutely, Your Highness. It was as delicious as always. I was particularly partial to the tiramisu.”

“I noticed,” Bea smiled. “Thank you for meeting me. And please, like I said, call me Bea.”

Ajay blinked twice, then dipped his head. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

That was another thing that Bea couldn’t figure out whether to like or dislike about Ajay. His parents were New Asian immigrants, and even though he had been born in Solari, he still spoke English a bit too formally and with a bit of an accent. And as much as she personally found the accent endearing, since her country was at war with New Asia, she was worried that the people wouldn’t accept Ajay if he were to win the Selection.

She put that all aside for now. It was their first date, there was no need to talk about marriage yet. There were twenty-one other men that were still contenders in the game.

“So, what do you do in the evenings?”

Ajay’s answer surprised her. She had always assumed he studied in private or practiced speeches or settled finances, something that she assumed Threes did. They did tend to be academics, and Bea certainly didn’t fall into that category.

But instead, he answered her question immediately, with the same small smile that he’d had on his face when she’d slipped him the note. “I usually take a mug of tea to the library and read,” he said. “In the time that I’ve been here, I’ve been going through the fantasy section. Your family have some very interesting books.”

Bea smiled. “I loved our library as a kid. Ian refused to set foot in there, so it was my private spot away from everyone. Why don’t we go there now? I’ll call a maid to bring some tea up.”

“I’m very picky about my tea,” Ajay warned her. “On my first night here, my butler asked if he could do anything for me, and I just said that I have a specific way that I like my tea. He let me into the kitchens to show him how to make it.”

Bea raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you’re that picky?”

“I toned it down a bit because I was afraid of being rude,” Ajay admitted. “But yes. I used to like more kinds of tea, but my first diplomatic trip to southern New Asia ruined it for me. They served such good tea at that hotel that I had to request their recipe, and now I have to have it like that all the time.”

Bea couldn’t help but laugh at that, and Ajay smiled too. He must have known it was ridiculous, but Bea accepted it. Fine. Being very selective about tea was a character flaw that she could make peace with.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Bea said. “Let’s go to the kitchens. You can teach me how to make it, too.”

Ajay’s eyes widened. “What… are you sure? I didn’t mean to imply that--”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Bea said, grabbing Ajay’s hand and pulling him back into the dining hall. “Just because I’m princess doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy things like cooking.”

“Well, yes, but..” Ajay stammered, clearly a little flustered by having the princess’ hand in his. 

“Come on, Ajay. Do I look like I do anything I don’t want to do?”

Ajay paused, and then shook his head. 

“Good. Follow me,” Bea said, and then pulled him into the kitchen. It was empty but pristine, and Ajay looked like he was ready to say something but then Bea pointed to a ladder that she knew descended into the private lower kitchen. 

“It’s meant for the servants,” Bea explained, “so they can come and go with their meals without disrupting the controlled chaos in the main kitchen. But Ian and I have been coming down here ever since we were kids. One of the cooks was good friends with my dad.”

“Then I’d be honored to see it,” Ajay said, his expression looking as excited as she’d ever seen him. Bea felt her heart lift, too. Clearly she had chosen a good idea for their date.

This late at night, the only usual occupants of the lower kitchen were the Williams family. But tonight, it was only Grace, sitting on one of the counters and eating strawberries directly out of the plastic container they’d come in.

“Grace!” Bea said as soon as she could see the other girl. Grace gave her a smile, but when Ajay came down the ladder after Bea, Grace’s eyes widened and she quickly hopped off the counter and put the strawberries back in the fridge, going directly into servant mode in half a second.

“Ajay, this is Grace. She’s my lady’s maid and my closest friend. Grace, Ajay is one of the Selected.”

“I recognize you,” Ajay said. “You were standing behind the Princess when I met her.”

“And I remember you,” Grace grinned. “You were the one who was weird and stared at us.”

“ _ Grace! _ ” Bea hissed at her, but Ajay just smiled. “Yes, that was me. I tried to make a good first impression, but I psyched myself out. My brain went directly to blank stare mode.”

Grace and Bea laughed. Bea thought the idea of someone being nervous to meet her was weird, but she guessed she should get used to it. After all, once she was Queen, she would be even more intimidating.

“So, what brings you two down here?”

“I want Ajay to teach me how to make tea the way he likes it,” Bea explained. “He says he’s very choosy.”

“Oh, you’re on a date,” Grace realized. “I’ll clear out in a second. I was just having a late snack.”

Bea thought quickly. She found that she didn’t actually mind Grace being there. Her bolder nature definitely made things less awkward between Bea and Ajay. And anyways, she wanted Grace to get to know the guys eventually, and Bea had a good feeling that Ajay would be in the Selection for a while.

“No, stay,” Bea said. “You can learn too, if you want. And how’s Ajay supposed to get to know me without hearing embarrassing stories about me from my older kind-of sister?”

Grace carefully eyed Bea, and then shot a glance at Ajay to see if he minded having her crash his date. He didn’t seem bothered, so Grace nodded.

“Do you want to hear about the time Bea fell out of a tree? Or how about the time she got scared of the horses?”

“Not now!” Bea groaned, playfully nudging Grace, who just smiled cheekily. 

Bea turned to Ajay. “Okay, teach us how to make this mysterious delicious tea that has ruined all other types of tea for you.”

“Alright,” Ajay pushed his glasses up and rolled his sleeves back. “We need black tea, coconut milk, sugar, ginger, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, peppercorns, and star anise.”

Grace was already rummaging through the cabinets as Ajay spoke. Bea busied herself searching the fridge for coconut milk, wanting to be useful but not knowing where anything else was.

“What kind of black tea?” Grace asked, holding up a box with a large variety of tea bags. Ajay peered inside and pointed at the darjeeling variety. “Two bags,” he said. Bea brought him the coconut milk, which he accepted with a smile.

“Thanks, my lady. Could you slide that over here, please?” he asked, pointing at the stone mortar and pestle across the counter. He carefully measured out a cup of milk, then set the bottle to the side.

Grace had returned with the spices. “We don’t have any star anise,” she explained. Ajay waved it away.

“That’s just an extra thing I like,” he said. “The tea’s still great without it. Thank you,” he remembered to say, accepting the bunch of spices from Grace. “Now we grind it up.”

“Can I do that part?” Bea asked, bouncing on her toes. She couldn’t help but get a little excited about cooking, probably because she rarely got to do it.

Ajay handed over the pestle, and aside from a few nitpicky comments about her grip, he largely let her figure out how to do it. Soon enough, the spices were all crushed.

Ajay poured water into a pot that he had found hanging over the stove and took the tea bags from Grace, cutting them open and dumping the loose tea directly in, alongside the crushed spices.

“Thank you, Miss Grace,” he said when Grace handed him the tea bags, prompting Grace to shoot Bea a weird look. She mouthed, “ _ Miss Grace? _ ” at Bea and she had to stop herself from laughing. 

“Alright, now we wait,” Ajay said, stepping back from the pot. Bea noticed that steam from the hot water had fogged up his glasses and she pointed at them, laughing as he wiped them off on the silk sleeve of his suit but realized that silk wasn’t good for wiping glasses.

“Give them here,” Grace said, then cleaned the glasses on a clean spot on her uniform’s cotton apron. She handed them back and once he’d check them all over for any spots, he slid them back on.

“Thanks,” he said again, then turned his attention back to Bea. “So, what do you usually do in the evenings?”

“I usually spend time with Vizmund,” Bea said. “That’s our dog. But that’s only when I can get away from my duties. The work never ends for an heir to the throne,” she sighed.

“I understand,” Ajay replied. “My father has to get on planes to New Asia at an hour’s notice sometimes. Diplomatic emergencies and all that. He officially only works during the day, but we all know he’s on call 24/7.”

“That’s kind of how it is here,” Bea said. “I’m always the princess, even if I want to be done with work for the day. And I have days where I don’t have instruction or events or advisor meetings, but they usually get filled with paperwork and planning.”

“That sounds stressful,” Ajay agreed. “To not be able to get away from your job.”

“I can’t complain, though,” Bea said, trying to change the subject. “I get to live in the most beautiful place in the country, I can wear all kinds of beautiful dresses, and I have the power that some people would kill for. It’s worth a sleepless night or two.”

“It’s not like you got to choose, though,” Ajay said. “You didn’t choose to be royalty, it’s more like you were born into it.”

Bea shrugged. “And I could’ve been born to be a construction worker, or a miner, or I could’ve been illegitimate and forced out onto the streets. None of us really get to choose what we get in the world, and all things considered, I got pretty lucky being born into the Royal Family.”

Ajay nodded just as the water in the pot started to boil. He quickly removed it from the heat.

“Alright, ten minutes and then we can add the milk and sugar,” he said. Grace, who had retreated to the far edge of the kitchen to give the two some privacy, set a small egg timer for ten minutes.

“What’s your favorite thing about New Asia? Besides the tea.”

“That’s not fair to make me choose,” Ajay complained playfully. “We usually go to the capital for my dad’s work, but my favorite place is the village where he grew up. It’s in the southern part, it used to be called India before it got annexed by China into forming New Asia.”

“What do you like about the village?”

Ajay smiled. “It has a lot of really old houses, and the paint is all faded, but you can tell it used to be really bright colors. There’s so many artists there, and they don’t always have paper or canvases so they draw on their houses. A few of the nicer ones were preserved, but mostly they were just left to fade with time.”

“That’s sad,” Bea said, thinking about how everything would be lost to time eventually.

“I guess it is,” Ajay replied. “I used to think so, but there’s also something beautiful about it. If it fades away, it just means that nature is touching the art, right? That everything is how it’s meant to be.”

“And is that something you live by?” Bea wanted to know. “Everything is how it’s meant to be?”

Ajay snorted. “No, I can be uptight and impatient most of the time. I want things to change, even if I don’t know how to make them change, which frustrates me to no end.”

“Like having your tea be exactly how you want it?” Bea teased. 

Ajay nodded, though. “It’s my fatal flaw, to hear my mom talk about it.”

“We all have one,” Bea said. “Mine is that I can’t get my advisors to listen to me. Or my grandfather.”

Ajay made a face that was probably supposed to be sympathy, and Bea’s stomach dropped. She’d said far too much. That was a habit of hers, and she was thinking about how to take it back when the egg timer rang and Grace quickly covered it in her apron, trying to muffle the sound.

Willing to drop the awkward moment, or maybe simply desperate to get his tea, Ajay turned his attention back to the pot. He stirred in the cup of milk and a generous portion of sugar.

“Do you have a strainer?” he asked, and Grace handed him one from the nearest cabinet. Bea took charge of the pot, pouring the tea from the pot into the strainer, which Ajay held, and then into the teapot, which Grace had fetched from the other side of the kitchen. Grace poured them both cups of the sweet milky tea and watched carefully as Bea tasted it for the first time.

“...wow,” she admitted. “I definitely understand how this ruined all other tea for you. It’s so spicy, but soothing at the same time, but kind of… warm?”

Ajay nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! When I had it for the first time in New Asia, I asked my dad if that was what heaven tasted like.”

Bea giggled. “I say yes. Grace, you have to come try some of this.”

Grace startled, surprised to continue to be included on Bea’s date. She took another glass out of the cabinet and poured a small amount of tea for herself, holding it in both hands and breathing it in before sipping it carefully.

Her eyebrows lifted up as soon as she tasted it and she smiled. “This is really good,” she said to Ajay. 

“Definitely worth all the work,” Bea added. 

“It’s high-maintenance, but high-reward,” Ajay agreed. “I hate to keep asking my poor butler to do it, though. He’s had to do so much for me ever since I came here, mostly making all these new clothes for me.”

Bea shrugged. “I mean, that’s his job. He’s literally paid to do stuff for you.”

“Still,” Ajay insisted, and Bea let it drop. Grace was watching them curiously, her cup of tea nearly all drained.

“What?” Bea asked, and Grace just shook her head. “I’ve never heard of two people as high-ranking as you two being so considerate towards servants,” she said. “That’s all. I guess I thought Bea was the exception to the fact that people in the upper castes tend to be rude to servants, but since Ajay is so… I don’t know. Concerned, maybe? About his butler’s time and stress. It makes me think that not everyone is like… well…”

Grace trailed off, but Bea knew exactly where she was going with that. “Like the Crandalls?” she asked. “Or like my grandfather? It’s okay, you can say it.”

“I can’t,” Grace protested. “I owe your grandfather a lot, since he let me stay here and not go back out on the streets.”

That was news to Bea. She furrowed her brows, wanting to ask Grace about what she had just said but also being scared of causing the girl to clam up again.

Ajay nodded along with what Grace said, as if it wasn’t an earth-shattering secret. “Sometimes I get so angry with my father, but I owe him so much for letting me tag along on his diplomatic missions. He could’ve just left me with my mom to follow in her footsteps, but instead he showed me the world. I have to remember that, and bite my tongue when he says something I disagree with.”

“Well, if you can’t say it, then I will. My grandfather can really be rude sometimes. He never lets me say anything during advisor meetings, and when he does, it’s just him trying to embarrass me by quizzing me about something he knows I’ve forgotten.”

“You don’t deserve that,” Grace agreed. 

Bea noticed how down the atmosphere must have gotten so she decided to laugh it off, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, this isn't how I thought the date would go."

"It's been better than I expected, to be honest." Ajay disagreed. 

"I can't believe I crashed your date like this." Grace realized. "I'll be going to my quarters now, so just leave your cups by the sink and I'll wash them later."

"You mean  _ we _ crashed your late snack." Bea corrected, finishing her tea. "We're just finishing our cups and you don't have to come out later, we'll wash them up."

"No." The older girl gave her a stern look. "You and your royal hands stay off my sink."

Grace kept on shooting her a look until she disappeared around the corner, making her laugh. "Got it!" Bea called after.

Even Ajay had a tiny amused smile on his face. "Your friend was quite the character."

"Yes, and I sure know I won't be able to find anyone like her." 

He finished his own tea and scooped up hers on his way to the sink. 

"Thank you. Shall we go?" Bea asked. 

Ajay offered his arm and Bea held on to it, making their way out of the kitchens. "Where to next, my lady?"

"I believe I promised to show you the books that are worth reading in the library."

"To the library."

  * ••



  
  


The weekend and the days after them passed by in a blur of dates from suitor to suitor and planning for her grandfather's upcoming sixty-seventh birthday ball with Maria and her team.

She had been on at least ten dates by now as she scanned her written notes regarding her likes and dislikes on the suitors she had dated so far. Her grandfather had been asking her to have an elimination that she was more than happy to give. If it was up to her, she would have sent at least half of the suitors home by now and just focus on the ones she thinks have actual potential. Alas, she had to take it slow or the public will lash out. 

Reviewing her notes, Bea realized how Ajay, Caleb, Andy and,  _ surprisingly _ , Lucas were the only ones who made quite the impressions on her during these dates. The rest just didn't work out, so she marked four of those suitors and sent words that they were being summoned to the study. 

Bea leaned back on the huge executive chair, staring up the high ceiling and the old world map painted on it. She was trying to balance her time, knowing the coming days will be busier in preparation for the birthday ball on Saturday evening. 

_ And the guests _ . Bea sighed heavily. Tomorrow, she and her twin brother Ian will be welcoming at least a dozen of them coming from all over the world. One of them will be Princess Amber, the young European princess and Ian's overly-enthusiastic girlfriend, and her entourage. 

Bea had only met her once, during a party at the beginning of the year dressed in her heavily jewelled pink gown and thick makeup. In fact, she and Ian had only just met her then and suddenly, her stupid twin brother already had a girlfriend. 

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Even Vizmund, who had been curled up on the corner, raised his head. "Come in!" she called out.

The door opened and the four suitors that Bea was planning on eliminating stepped in.

Bea smiled, hoping this would go better than the last time. She had at least gone on dates with all of these men, and was very sure that their personalities wouldn’t fit together well.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I’ve decided to send you home. It’s been lovely having you here, but I’m afraid that we just aren’t compatible. Maria will meet you in the Great Room to arrange your travel home.”

The guys all looked disappointed, but thankfully, none of them were angry. They turned and left, save for the guy from Kent, who lingered.

“Yes?” Bea asked, and the guy startled, as if he hadn’t expected her to notice him.

“Is this because of your grandfather?” the guy asked. “Does he not like me?”

Bea hesitated. “Partially. I also just didn’t feel a connection between us on our date.”

The date with the guy from Kent had been a somewhat disastrous archery lesson, where he had gotten unreasonably bitter about Bea outshooting him. 

The guy nodded. “Alright, I guess that makes sense. Thanks, Your Highness.”

Bea pressed her lips together and watched the guy leave. Even though she hadn’t really liked any of the guys, she still hadn’t wanted to break any hearts. 

  * ••



The palace was abuzz with activities even before the sun started rising from the horizon. The servants were doing last minute checks and additional chores to prepare for the arrival of the foreign princess.

By six am, Grace stumbled into her room, still yawning, and woke her up. 

“ _ Can't a girl get a few extra minutes of sleep here? _ ” Bea grumbled against her pillows. Knowing Grace though, she wouldn't leave her alone if she doesn't get up within ten minutes.

Two other maids came knocking on her door just as she managed to sit up, wheeling in a mannequin holding up the dress she will be wearing for the day. A dark blue A-line dress with a lacy cape covering the arms and shoulders down the back. 

She blinked a few times, looking at Grace with an approving nod. "Nice."

"Thanks," Grace smiled proudly, setting up all the necessary makeup they will be using on the dresser. The girl clapped her hands when she turned back and found Bea had laid down on her pillows again. "Come on! Hurry up. Get your royal butt to shower." 

Bea sat up suddenly, scandalized, as she glanced at the two other maids present in the room. "Grace!"

"Listen, I can get a bucket of water from the bathroom if you're too lazy to get up?" Grace asked. "Miss Maria will have our heads if the princess doesn't show up to breakfast at seven."

"Seven." Bea groaned, peeking at the clock on her bedside table. "That's like forty-seven minutes and thirty-nine seconds from now."

"No stalling." Grace scolded. "Shower now, young lady."

"Yes, mom." Bea made a face at her as she slid off the bed, mumbling under her breath as she walked into the bathroom.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, a cup of tea was already waiting for her. She went through her morning routine with Grace after they sent the two maids back to where they should be. Vizmund was out. Apparently, Ian got so restless waiting for the time of his girlfriend's arrival that he decided a walk with the dog would calm him down a bit. 

"So," Grace started as she was doing her hair. "I noticed those files earlier and thought they were the suitors."

Bea followed her nod to the files on her bedside table. "Hmm?"

"They were about these guys named Ezra Mitchell and Julian Castillo? Pretty sure that Ezra guy was related to Caleb, but why are you reading about them?"

"They died about three years ago."

Grace's hands on her hair froze. "Dead? Why the hell are you reading about two hot looking dead guys?"

"I don't know." Bea sighed. "Really. Caleb mentioned about his brother dying in the military and it somehow triggered my memory of Julian. He's my brother's best friend. Somehow their stories were tied together and my instincts kept telling me something about it."

"You're such a weirdo." Grace shook her head but an amused smile curved on her lips. "If you find out more about these two gorgeous definitely-dead guys, let me know."

"Sure."

They finished preparing her for the day and soon, it was time for breakfast, which was dreary and quiet. Judging from the looks on the suitors' faces, they had been woken up against their will too. Some of the ones who seemed actually awake were making conversations with the guys next to them.

Ian was off before Bea could even finish her breakfast. The guy was practically buzzing in excitement that she worried he would combust if the time didn't move a little too fast.

His grandfather followed soon after, but he was heading to the study for work. Once Bea stood, the suitors started wandering off one by one too. 

"Bea?" Someone called. Maria walked in and approached her. "Princess Amber's plane just landed on the tarmac."

"Oh. I'll be heading out soon." She nodded, looking at Rory who had stayed behind as if waiting for her. "Thanks, Maria."

Maria, workaholic as ever, left so she could proceed to other tasks. Bea looked around and noticed that only Rory and a few cleaning servants were around. 

"Hey," She walked to the doorway where he was standing. "How've you been?"

"Your Highness." Rory smiled. "I'm good, how are you?"

"Good, just heading out." Bea reached out, holding on to his arm which surprised them both. She felt the heat rose to her cheeks at the contact. "Are you free this afternoon?"

"For you, I suppose I can clear my schedule." 

Her smile widened. "Good. Good."

"Can I know what we'll be doing?" Rory asked.

"I don't know." Bea shrugged. She wasn't really planning to ask anyone that day but seeing him reminded her how they haven't found any time to actually hangout. "We'll see."

"Hmm. Suspense, huh?" Rory quipped.

"Something like that." 

Their eyes met, and Bea felt the butterflies in her stomach flutter at the way Rory had been looking into her eyes. His irises were a dark shade of brown, far darker than hers which were light and chocolate-like, but warm and friendly. She couldn't look away. 

"Ahem." 

Bea jumped, turning to find Grace behind her with an ill-concealed smile on her face. "Grace!"

"Hi, hello," Grace waved at the both of them. 

Her face flushed. "How long have you been there?"

"Not long."

"Rory, this is Grace, my friend and lady's maid." Bea introduced them quickly in order to hide how flustered she was. "Grace, this is--"

"Rory!" the girl finished for her, offering her hand to him.

Rory was a bit surprised, but the scene seemed to be amusing for him. He took Grace's hand and shook it. "How are you, Grace?"

"Good. I've heard so much about you!"

"Oh?" Rory raised an eyebrow. "Only Good things, I hope?"

"You have no idea." Grace shot her a teasing look. "Actually--"

"I think we should go. I'll see you outside, Rory." Bea gave him an apologetic smile as she dragged her maid away before she could say anything else. 

"He seems charming." Grace remarked once they made it to the hallway. 

"You think?" 

"You asked him out, didn't you?" 

"Yes," Bea admitted, sighing heavily. She couldn't have lied to the girl even if she tried. 

Grace's beam brightened. "Oh my God, it's happening!"

"Shhhh!" She hissed when they reached the main hall, which was bustling with activities.

Before they walked in, Bea caught sight of two redheaded ladies and a tall man walking farther into the palace. 

"Skye?" She called before she could think about it. 

The Crandalls stopped walking and turned. Mr. Crandall was surprised but Mrs. Crandall curtsied immediately, urging her daughter to do the same. "Your Highness."

"Duke Crandall, Lady Crandall," Bea regarded them as she and Grace approached. "Skye."

"Princess Beatrice." Rodger eyed her suspiciously. "What can we do for you?"

"Actually," she looked at Skye. "Skye, why don't you join us outside to welcome Princess Amber?"

The redhead fidgeted on her spot. "I…"

Bea could almost hear the refusal before Skye could even say it. She knew the girl wasn't much into socializing, or welcoming a horde of loud rapid-speaking French people. 

"Yes! She will." Loretta answered for her, grabbing her daughter's hand. "Let's get you change into a more proper--"

"I don't think that's necessary." Bea cut the woman off, reaching for Skye's free hand. "It's a short drive from the airport, they should be here by now."

"Are you sure, Your Highness?" Lady Crandall asked, terribly concerned. "My daughter doesn't look very presentable for the camera."

"She looks fine, my lady. I assure you." Bea forced a very polite smile at the couple. "We should get going."

Rodger was watching intently, but Lady Crandall managed a fake smile back as the three of them walked away. 

"Not that I'm complaining for having you save me from a morning of boring socializing with my parents' colleagues, but I'm not exactly a warm welcome kind of person." Skye spoke on their way to the courtyard. 

Bea studied her up and down. The girl is dressed in full black dress again and her stylish black boots.  _ It's so her _ . Bea thought, smiling. "You'll be fine. You don't even have to talk to anyone."

"Right," Skye sighed. "Just stand awkwardly on my spot next to the lovely Princess. Got it."

"Did you just call me lovely?" Bea gasped, teasing. "Aw, a real compliment from Skye."

Skye's cheeks visibly reddened. "I did not."

Grace smirked, which made Skye blush even more. "Don't mind her, Lady Skye. Her confidence needs a little boost every now and then."

Bea was confused. "What does that even mean? Also, would you prefer staying behind with your parents?"

"Let's just hope I won't regret coming here." 

The three of them stepped out of the palace main doors to find the suitors lining up the entrance. Erin had set up a few cameramen on the perimeter to capture the arrival of the foreign princess. More guards were stationed from the gates and through the short distance to the palace main courtyard, which was pristine and the giant tiger statue in the middle was gleaming under the bright blue sky. Again, the weather was too perfect, it was almost suspicious.

Skye fanned her hand, red hair clinging to the side of her face. "How can you people live in this weather? It's burning my flesh."

"Well, not every province gets snow all year round like someone's province, you know." Bea almost felt bad for her, but she knew Skye would rather die than wear a flowery summer dress that was very common in the Province of Angeles. The image made her laugh. 

"What?" Skye asked.

"Nothing, just wondering how you'd look in a flowery summer dress."

The look of horror that Skye gave her made Bea laugh out loud, causing everyone in the courtyard to look at her. 

The set of gold-painted gates in the distance swung open as half a dozen luxury cars started rolling in. 

"In position, everyone." Maria instructed. 

She and Ian stood in the center, a few steps above the spot right where the people will be once they get off the car. On her side were Skye and Grace, then the line of suitors started with Ajay and Rory. 

"Oh god, here she is." Ian grinned. It must be taking all of his self control to not bounce on the balls of his feet right there. "I missed her."

Bea rolled her eyes. "Good lord, Ian."

The first car was the security detail who drove by to give way to the limousine behind them. Two men in crisp black suits rushed to the limo and opened it, revealing a short light-haired girl in full pink attire and a blinding smile.

"Ian! Darling!" Amber was a pink blur as she let out an ear-splitting shriek and jumped to Ian's arms, crushing their lips together. "I! Missed! You!"

Bea had to avert her eyes. She just couldn't watch it, but the others seemed amused. Some of the suitors snickered at the public display. 

A few servants ran to the second limousine, which turned out to be filled with pink suitcases and luggage, about twenty or so of them.

Bea raised her eyebrows, watching two servants struggle to haul a big pink suitcase.  _ What's in there? A giant rock? _

"Damn," Rory mused in awe. "I don't think my whole family has enough stuff to fit in so many luggage like that."

"What, is she staying here forever?" Grace whispered to her in horror.

"I don't even know." 

Bea turned just in time to see her brother's eyes widened at something Amber told him. She couldn't hear what they were whispering about but she could see it freaked him out. Ian let out a big smile though, saying something back to her, but he seemed more stiff than usual. Bea exchanged glances with Grace, both of them wondering what that was about. 

"Bea!" Amber's shrill voice made her flinch. 

"OOF!" Bea didn't have time to react. The shorter girl wrapped her arms around her in a crushing hug that almost threw her off balance. "H-Hi! Welcome back, Amber."

“It’s so good to be back!” Amber cried. “With my darling Ian and his wonderful sister, in such a sunny and lovely place. How is your dear grandpapa?”

“He’s well, thank you--” Bea started, but then she was cut off when Amber turned to Ian again. 

“Darling, you must show me around the gardens! I want to see all the new flowers!”

“Off we go, then,” Ian said, offering Amber his arm. She took it, and they sped off, leaving Bea, Skye, Grace and the suitors all just standing there on the steps of the palace.

“Well,” Bea said, trying to maintain an air of sophistication. “You’ve met the French princess. So.”

Most of the boys just looked stunned, and Bea really couldn’t blame them. Grace had met Amber before and was quickly recovering from the latest encounter, and Skye just looked exasperated.

Bea sighed. It was certainly going to be an interesting few days in the palace. Amber was sweet, but very high-energy. Still, it would make the Women’s Room a fun place to be again. The only people in the palace that were really allowed in there were Bea herself, Skye, Lady Crandall, and the two other female advisors to the crown. Skye hadn’t made an appearance in the Women’s Room as far as Bea could tell, and Bea would rather avoid Lady Crandall and the other duchesses. 

Bea looked at Skye, who was inspecting her black-painted nails. She wished Skye would come to the Women’s Room. She had a good feeling about the other girl, something that made her really want to be her friend. 

She broke her gaze away from Skye as soon as the other girl moved, worried the redhead had sensed that Bea was looking at her. Grace had migrated over to the edge of the group of suitors and was talking to Ajay. Rory was chatting with a few of the other guys including Caleb and Jordan. Bea caught his eye carefully and smiled. He grinned back, but focused back on the conversation before anyone else could tell that he was doing something else. Bea found that she couldn’t wait for her date with Rory that afternoon, and started quickly thinking of things that they could do. She didn’t want to go back to the gardens, since she had been there too many times already that week. But it was too nice of a day to spend indoors, so she ran through a list of outdoor activities that they could do.

Swimming was out of the question, of course. The King Father barely approved of her, Ian and Vizmund swimming in the pond. He certainly wouldn’t want her taking a boy there.

Archery was fun, but not really what she was looking for today. Maybe croquet, but that was such a slow and boring game.

Suddenly, Bea spotted the stablehands leading the horses out to graze on the pastures, and an idea started forming in her head.

***

“Haven’t you ever been on a horse before?” Bea laughed.

“No? When would I have done that?” Rory asked, standing a good ten feet away from his horse. The stablehand waited patiently to help him up into the saddle, but he looked terrified at the thought of approaching the heavy hooves that could kick at any moment.

Bea was perched on her horse, a beautiful dapple gray that she’d named Frosty. She’d picked out the oldest and kindest mare, a Morgan named Ursula, for Rory, but he was still scared of her. 

To the side, Erin was documenting Bea’s giggles and Rory’s terror. At last, after Bea promised Rory that she wouldn’t let Ursula hurt him, he carefully made his way to the horse. Erin’s camera followed his every move, even zooming in on his thrilled face when he finally made it onto the saddle.

Bea couldn’t stop herself from laughing the whole time, whether it was because of Rory’s expression, how he’d clutched the reins so tightly that his knuckles turned pale when Ursula started a slow walk, or how he’d shouted with glee when Bea decided to pick things up to a quick trot.

Once Rory had gotten more used to being on the horse, Bea steered them in a slow walk towards the gardens. 

“Oh, this is beautiful on horseback,” Bea said. “You’ve got to see it.”

“It is,” Rory agreed, but when Bea looked over, he was looking at her. She immediately blushed.

Rory was definitely still a charmer, he hadn’t lost that as he’d grown up. The happiness in his eyes was addictive, and it was effortless to get lost in a conversation with him. As they continued their ride through the orchard, Bea made up a sort of enchanted forest in her mind. Only the relentless click of Erin’s camera brought her back to her senses.

“Hey,” Bea said, nudging Rory with her foot. His eyes widened as he nearly lost grip on the stirrup, but once he steadied himself, he looked at her.

Bea leaned in conspiratorially. “Want to lose the cameras?”

Rory grinned. “I say they got enough pictures of our date for the tabloids.”

“Four heel-taps on your horse. Follow me.”

Bea tapped her heel on Frosty’s flank four times, then barely had time to look back at Rory’s frightened face before she was flying.

It didn’t seem like Frosty’s hooves touched the grass once before Bea was halfway across the field, shooting through the air so fast that the wind blew all of her hair back from her face. She couldn’t help but let out a whoop, which wasn’t even audible because the wind cut off the sound. She felt like she was strapped to a rocket, a wild thing completely out of control. Frosty’s muscles rippling beneath her, the rhythmic four-beat gait resonating through her entire body, the way she felt like Frosty might pick up her hooves and launch into the sky like he had wings. It was incredible, there was nothing else like it.

Rory was far behind her, and when Frosty finally slowed to a walk towards the edge of the fence, Bea took a look back. Rory’s face was shell-shocked, completely frozen, his eyes darting back and forth to take in the world around him. There was a certain thrill that could only come from going that fast, Bea knew, and seeing Rory experience it for the first time was a privilege.

He got enough of his senses back in order to start laughing, the sound clear in the empty field. Erin and her camera were far behind them now, too far away to invade their private date. When Ursula slowed to a stop, Rory looked toward Bea with his mouth hanging open, still processing the experience. Bea dismounted, then walked over to Ursula and held out a hand to help Rory do the same.

“I should be helping you, not the other way around,” he said breathlessly.

“I don’t think that would go very well,” Bea replied, also breathless but not from the speed. Right there in front of her, his form silhouetted in the sun, Bea thought it was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

She stared into his eyes and couldn’t quite catch her breath. Impulsively, she leaned in to press her lips to Rory’s, not really even knowing she was doing it.

He caught her jaw in his hand, smiling against her lips for a short second before she pulled away. She’d never done that before, and she didn’t even know if it was a good kiss with all things considered, but she just felt like smiling. Rory felt safe, felt like the happy moments of her childhood. Like someone who would always be there to protect her.

“We should get back," Bea said awkwardly, and Rory had to take a second to process the moment before he nodded back.

As they walked back to the barn, each leading a horse, Bea felt at peace for the first time since the damned Duke Crandall had even brought up the Selection.

***

Throughout Bea’s story about her date with Rory, Grace couldn’t help but selfishly wish that she could have that kind of adventure.

But she would never say that. So she just sat on the counter next to Bea, hanging on to her every word. Trying to picture the wind in her hair while she rode a horse. Wondering how it would feel to have a guy look at her the way Rory was always looking at Bea.

_ Shut it down _ , Grace told herself.  _ Jealousy gets you nowhere _ .

So she did what she always did: she joked about it.

“So romantic!” she cooed, pretending to swoon and falling onto Bea’s lap. Bea shrieked and swatted her away, giggling the entire time.

“It was,” Bea admitted. 

“So then you galloped away into the sunset. Happily ever after,” Grace teased again.

“You’re the worst,” Bea said. 

“It reminds me of my first date with Amber,” Ian said in a dreamy tone.

“Yeah, speaking of her,” Bea countered. “Glad to see she’s somehow gotten more intense since the last time we saw her.”

“What do you mean?” Ian asked defensively.

“You guys were talking and you got this super freaked out look on your face,” Bea reminded him. 

Grace hadn’t even noticed that. She’d assumed that Ian had enthusiastically returned Amber’s aggressive PDA.

Ian, on the other hand, turned red at the mention of that and looked down on the kitchen counter. "I uh… that was nothing." 

Looking at Bea, Grace knew the princess didn't believe that for a bit. It was very rare for Ian to be freaked out, or to act strange, those things only happen to him when something had been said or done to upset him. But Bea refrained from saying anything else, and so did she.

"Here you go," Greg returned after he and Rita left to make their hot chocolate. He was holding two in his hand, giving them to her and Bea while Rita handed one to Ian. 

"Hmmm," Bea hummed appreciatively after taking a careful sip. Grace couldn't help but laugh at her how goofy the princess was smiling. "This is exactly what I needed after a very busy day."

"That bad, huh?" Grace asked.

"No, it was better than I expected."

"Was it because of this boy Rory?" Greg pointed out, he was holding his cup of dark coffee now.

Bea sighed. "You're all gonna tease me about that for a long time, aren't you?"

"We're just happy for you, sweetie." Rita gave her a motherly smile. The woman was setting up the Scrabble board in the middle, along with four red racks and the letter tiles inside the bag. 

"Yeah," Greg agreed. "You could have gone for the Crandall kid."

"Or that fancy caveman." Grace added. She didn't have to elaborate on that one. They all knew she was referring to Max Warren, who was basically a neanderthal in a suit. 

Ian immediately picked out one rack and the others followed except for Rita, who will be the scorer. The prince rubbed his hands together, his usual cheerfulness was back. "Watch out, Bea and Grace. I will win this time."

"Uh-huh." Bea nodded, unconvinced.

Grace took the last rack that the Princess handed over. "You say that every time we play."

"How can you be sure I won't win  _ this _ time," Greg challenged him. Everyone laughed, neither of them had won a game of Scrabble if she or Bea were around to play. 

Rita held out the bag in the middle so they could determine the arrangement they will be playing in. 

Grace looked at the one she picked from the bag, seeing the golden letter K embossed on the red square tile. Oh, bummer.

"Okay, let's see," Rita said.

Greg held out an O, while Bea had the letter F and Ian was a B.

"Hell yeah!" The prince pumped his fist in the air. 

"That doesn't mean you can beat us," Bea teased, making a funny face on her brother before her smile turned into surprise. "Skye?"

All five of them turned to the doorway of the kitchen and sure enough, there was a small figure standing there in black sweater and her shiny red hair. 

The girl shifted on her feet, obviously wasn't planning to be seen. "Sorry, I wasn't… I didn't think anyone would be here."

"It's game night." Bea smiled. The princess had never jumped off her stool so fast before. "Come on, you can join us."

Grace watched as Bea tugged the very hesitant Crandall daughter into the room, hand in hand. 

Greg sipped on his coffee. "So you're Skye." 

Skye was surprised. "You… you guys knew about me?"

"Bea asked me to prepare a meal for you before," Grace replied. "I handed it over to Leah."

"And my husband was the cook." Rita added.

"Well," Bea started. "That girl is Grace, my lady's maid that you've met before, and these are Greg and Rita, then you know my brother Ian."

"Hiya." Ian gave her a half-wave. "I didn't know Brian had a sister."

"I don't exactly like telling people about that." Skye answered bluntly. 

"I get you." Grace agreed. "If I have a brother like that…phew."

Skye looked around. "I didn't mean to intrude. I was just looking for water."

"Would you like a cup of hot chocolate instead?" Rita offered, but the woman was already off to prepare a cup for the redhead. 

The girl shook her head. "I don't think I should…"

"Hey, it's okay." Bea assured her. "They don't mind. In fact, they would be more than happy if you join us. Unless you're just heading to bed."

"No, I couldn't sleep. I tried reading but it wasn't working."

Ian grabbed an extra stool from the corner and set it between him and Bea. Skye scanned the materials laid out on the counter in front of them, curious.

"We're playing Scrabbles." Bea said before she can ask. "But we already picked."

"How do you play it?" The redhead didn't seem to know anything about it.

"You've never played before?" Ian raised an eyebrow.

"My family weren't into board games, or any game that involves us playing together like a normal family."

"Bea will show you how to play." Grace offered, patting the princess on the shoulder before she could protest, but she noticed Bea wasn't really planning on protesting at all.

Rita came back and slid a cup of hot chocolate across the counter for Skye and the redhead mumbled her thanks. "We do this every once in a while, it's very stress relieving. These three were like our children."

Grace smiled warmly.

"Alright, we should begin." Bea announced, clapping her hands. "I'm sure Ian can't wait to win." 

"You bet I am." The boy grinned, taking seven tiles for his rack.

Bea picked her tiles next, then her and Greg. Grace groaned at how bad the letters she got. She had at least two I's, two A's and an O. The R and the T she got were hardly helpful.

Looking to her side, she noticed Bea was leaning close to Skye, who had been examining the tiles that the princess got from the bag.

She couldn't help but wonder as she watched the two. Bea was naturally sweet and kind, but the girl had very few friends. The ladies from court didn't really count and unless Bea found a way to understand the language of dogs, Vizmund didn't really count as human. 

But the way she was with Skye was different. Bea seemed comfortable around the redhead, no matter how aloof Skye could be around everyone or how dark her makeup gets, and Grace could see that it was the same for Skye. 

"Hey. Hey!" Bea snapped her fingers at her. "It's your turn!"

"Oh, right." Grace casually turned to her tiles, setting four letters on the board. "I'll put the R, I, O and T."

"Wow," Ian said dryly. "So creative."

Bea waved her brother off. "Leave her alone, she's daydreaming."

"Was it daydreaming if it's already ten in the evening?" 

Greg was studying the board. "Bea just put all her tiles in one play."

"She’s got Skye!" Ian protested.

"She does." Grace noticed the hint of a smile on the redhead's lips as she was looking at Bea.  _ Oh, she does _ .


	7. Hairpin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading so far! I just wanted to emphasize the trigger warnings for this fic. This chapter WILL contain blood, gunfire, injury, background character death, and trauma. Please take that under advisement.

"Everything in check?" Bea asked. 

Maria, with her clipboard, was talking to her earpiece when she turned to face her as Bea stepped into the entrance to the Great Hall minutes before they had to walk into the party.

For once, Maria was smiling with a hint of satisfaction on her face and Bea knew that everything went perfectly as planned. "Yes, everyone's waiting for you. And may I say, you look stunning, Bea."

"Thank you," Bea dipped her head, smiling graciously. She pointed to Grace who was still doing a last minute check on her gown. "Compliments to my collaborator, we brainstormed ideas for this gown."

Grace beamed. "Do you think it's enough to make the suitors speechless, Miss Maria?"

"I'd be very surprised if they aren’t." 

Bea walked over to the window and checked her reflection in the glass. The upper part of her vintage-inspired gown was made of gold sequins covering the thin lace underneath with flap on the side and embroidered gold appliques running down the chapel train. Grace had sprinkled tiny golden flakes on her neck, making the mock turtleneck of her gown look like it was melting on her skin. As requested, her hair was down with the blonde locks on the side of her face swept to the back and held together by golden leaves. 

"Mon dieu!" Amber squealed as soon as she and Ian joined them. The girl was dressed in a pink jeweled ball gown, matching Ian's pink vest under his blue dinner jacket. "You're so sparkly! Like me!"

Ian whistled appreciatively in agreement with his girlfriend. "The suitors won't know what hit them."

"Thank you, thank you." Bea turned to face the two. "Amber, you look very pretty. Brother, looking sharp in blues and pink."

Their grandfather appeared last, planked by three guards as he joined them. "Are we all ready?"

She and the ladies present curtsied as soon as he arrived while Ian bowed. "Happy birthday, Grandfather."

"Greetings, and thank you." The King Father nodded stiffly, fixing the silver bowtie on his neck. "Should we proceed?"

Maria rushed forward, gesturing for Ian and Amber to take their position out front since they will be coming out first. They hear the stumping of a staff on the floor and the page's voice ringing over the music on the other side of the doors. "Her Royal Highness Princess Amber of France and His Royal Highness Prince Ian of Solari."

The ornate doors opened and the two stepped onto the landing, being greeted by a round of applause from the guests below. Ian and Amber made their way down the carpeted staircase, the short princess waving enthusiastically on the crowd below. Dozens of guests from all over the country and the world will be watching them, dressed in their finest as the music plays in the background and the giant chandelier above the atrium casting an ethereal glow on the scene, making everything seem so magical. 

The page spoke again. "Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess Beatrice Everhart."

Bea walked forward as the doors opened once more, this time for her. She stopped at the top of the staircase, waiting for the applause to stop as she made her way down. She noticed a few familiar faces in the crowd, people who were always present in events just like this one. Even Lady Payton, the daughter of the Duke of Carolina and Frank's fiancée, must have come back from her vacation in Paris to attend the ball. 

On the edge of the crowd, she spotted Skye looking quite uncomfortable in her dress. It was a cerise-colored dress with a high neckline and long sleeves made of lace.

Bea could already tell it wasn't exactly her choice of dress. Her parents must have coerced her into wearing that dress for the night and Bea could see how unhappy the girl was just by the way her smile dropped so quickly when no one was looking. 

As if sensing her watching, Skye looked up at the staircase and met her eyes. Bea wasn't sure if she imagined it, but a hint of a smirk curved the corner of the girl's lips. 

Bea had to look away once she reached the bottom, and much to her disappointment, Brian was standing there and holding out a hand to her, which she had to accept. 

"My dear Princess," Brian said as he guided her down the last couple of steps and then kissed the back of her hand before letting her go. 

The suitors bowed as she passed. She was acutely aware of her grandfather walking down the staircase after her. From the back of the room, Bea saw Grace dressed in a waitress’ uniform holding a tray of hors d’œuvres in one hand and shooting her a thumbs up with the other. Vizmund had been locked up for the evening in Bea’s room, but he’d run around with the guards that morning and had a rousing game of fetch in the afternoon, so there was a good chance he was fast asleep on Bea’s bed right now.

The King Father had taken that time to start giving a very long and boring speech about his own longevity and the prospering country under his rule and his privilege to serve Solari as King not once but twice, and Bea forced herself to turn and listen. Her mind wandered as he spoke, back towards the suitors standing behind her.

Which one would ask her to dance first? The King Father had told her over and over again growing up that it was bad manners to ask a guy to dance, and even worse manners to have more than two dances in a row with one man. Especially at this point in the Selection, showing an obvious preference to one of the Selected in public would certainly draw undue speculation.

But it would be bad form to reject a dance from one of the Selected as well, so she swallowed a groan when she saw Brian walking up to her out of the corner of her eye, once her grandfather had finally ended his speech and the orchestra had finished warming up and launched into a jaunty waltz. He bowed in front of her and shot her that horrible toothy grin of his when he offered her his hand.

“May I have this dance, Your Highness?”

“Of course,” Bea nodded politely, mustering up a small smile.  _ All for the cameras _ , she thought.  _ Just one dance with him, then you can enjoy your evening for a little while _ .

Discomfort spread through her body as he led her out onto the floor and held her. He didn’t hold her too close, but his hand on her waist was too intimate of a grip than their relationship called for. Typically, the sons of visiting dukes and duchesses or foreign princes would politely keep a hand on her back. But she couldn’t correct Brian without making a scene out of it, so she grit her teeth and tolerated it.

_ Just one dance _ , she reminded herself.

“I noticed that you were going on a lot of dates these past couple of weeks,” Brian started. “It seems you’ve gone out with every guy here except me. Even Max, and I know you don’t like him. I wonder why.”

“I thought he was your friend,” Bea tried to deflect.

“Less friend, more of an assistant,” Brian laughed, as if nothing was wrong with that. “Max is whoever his two braincells allow him to be."

And even though Bea didn’t particularly like Max, she still felt herself bristling a bit. If Brian acted that way towards his only friend, how was he going to treat her?

“Seeing your grandfather up there must make you wonder what it will be like when you ascend,” Brian said.

“I don’t know if I’m looking forward to being Queen or not,” Bea admitted. “It’s a lot of power and responsibility, but it’s also such an honor.”

“The highest honor,” Brian agreed. “And one that hasn’t yet been given to a woman alone. Solari has always had natural-born Kings, isn’t that right?”

“You already know it is,” Bea said. “You and everyone else in Solari.”

Brain just smiled. “So how do you think they’re going to react when a little girl is put on the throne?” he asked. “They tolerate you now because your grandfather is regent, but do you really think the people will put all that faith in a woman?”

Bea pulled back and met Brian’s eyes, which were infuriatingly calm while her own head couldn’t stop spinning.  _ What gave him the audacity to say something like that? Who was he to speak to his future Queen that way? _ Unfortunately, something in her mind agreed with everything he said and she hated him for voicing it out.

“I’ve been princess my entire life,” Bea said. “I was born for this.”

“Your older brother was born for this,” Brain corrected her. “What makes you think you can take his place?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“That is true,” Brian said, humming thoughtfully. “Which is why you’ll need a man by your side. That’s the point of this Selection, isn’t it? To pick the man who will rule by your side.”

“As Prince Consort,” Bea said. “Not as King. And the idea is that I will find the man I love through this.” Even as she said that, she knew what his reply would be.

“Oh, Princess, we both know that’s not how it works,” he shook his head. “Not for us. You need to pick the man in this group who is best fit to reign, and that’s me.”

“Is it?” Bea asked, a challenge clear in her tone.

“You know my parents. How beloved they are in the eyes of the people, especially the people in Lakedon. And even though I’m young, I still hold a considerable amount of my family’s power. This is what I was born to do, to be on that throne. I’m not going to silently follow my father’s footsteps and settle for being an advisor. No, I’ll rise above him, I’ll rise above him and my mother and my pathetic excuse for a little sister. And I’ll rule this country, just like I was meant to.”

Bea was already angry, but the flippant mention of Skye and the idea of Brian ruling the world made it impossible to control her emotions. She scowled at Brian, not caring who would see. Maybe even hoping that her scowl would cause someone to take him away, even though she knew it could never happen.

“You’re disgusting,” she said. “I thought you were like your parents at first, but no. You’re so much worse. How dare you talk to me like that?”

“Shhh,” Brian shushed her, leaning in closer to her. He gripped her waist even more firmly, trapping her in his arms. If she tried to break free, it would end up all over the front page news. And only God knew what her grandfather would do to her then, for rejecting the son of his most loyal advisors.

“The people are watching,” Brian whispered in her ear. Bea bristled, the smell of the champagne on his breath was too much for her to bear silently. “Go on, smile like the sweet little princess you are.”

Bea felt sick. She was seconds away from damning the press and her grandfather to hell and kicking him square in the groin when the waltz ended, and her attention was thrust back into the party. 

Almost automatically, as soon as Brian released her to clap politely for the musicians, she moved as far away from him as she could. It wasn’t nearly far enough, but with every inch between them, his phantom grip on her waist lessened. Not even stopping to return his bow with the socially acceptable curtsy, Bea whirled around and walked as fast as she could to the other side of the room without drawing attention to herself. She shook in fury, needing to get as far away from Brian Crandall as she possibly could.

A number of the suitors looked concerned, but Ajay and Rory were the only ones to approach. 

“Bea, are you okay?” Rory asked, his concern for her bubbling over and making him forget his manners. Ajay frowned, but looked just as worried as Rory did. He took her hand and kissed it, bowing politely.

“I’m alright,” Bea replied. “Just better now that that’s over.”

“You should report him,” Rory said, clearly fed up with seeing her treated that way. “Tell the King Father, or your guards. Have him taken away.”

“She can’t,” Ajay said before Bea could figure out what to say. “The Crandalls have so much influence over the press and over their province. It would make everything worse if she kicked him out, the dissent from the people would be unbelievable.”

“How can they support him?” Rory fumed. “Don’t they know what he’s like? What kind of world he stands for?”   
  


“They don’t,” Bea said. “How could they? The only people who truly know him are you gentlemen, his sister, and me.”

“Don’t forget about me,” said a voice behind Bea. A tray of croissants entered the circle, followed by Grace. “Croissants, anyone?”   
  
Bea shook her head, her stomach still turning, but Ajay took two and passed one to Rory. “Miss Grace,” he greeted her.

“Sir Ajay,” Grace said back. “Sir Rory. I understand that you two also want to punch Brian into the next century?”

“That’s an understatement,” Rory scowled. “I don’t know how I’m going to look at his stupid face in the Men’s Parlor from now on. I might just haul off and beat him up.”

“Don’t,” Bea warned. “That will get you kicked out of the Selection faster than you can even put your fists up again.”

Rory scowled in Brian’s direction, clearly debating the pros and cons of fighting him, but Bea grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the conversation.

“Please, don’t,” Bea said, giving him a pleading look. “I need you here.”

Rory’s eyes softened when he looked into hers, and he let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

“Fine.”   
  
“Thank you,” Bea whispered. “I’ll figure out how to take care of it. But I don’t need any of you three getting kicked out of the palace.”

“It would be worth it,” Grace mumbled.

“Worth getting killed? You know my grandfather would execute you if you so much as touched a Two. And I need you most, okay? There’s no way I’ll get through all of this without you, Grace.”

Grace sighed. From further away, Amber’s voice could clearly be heard. “Ooh, darling, look! Croissants!”

“That’s my cue,” Grace said, then pasted on a smile and turned on her heel to bring the croissants over to Amber and Ian.

“I think you have a powerful ally in her,” Ajay remarked, watching her go. 

“Seconded, she’s terrifying,” Rory commented. “Anyways, Princess, may I have the pleasure of your next dance?”

“I was just going to ask--!” Ajay exclaimed, looking a little put out.

“You got distracted, and I asked first. Bea?”

“Yes, Rory, let’s dance.” Bea winked at Ajay, letting him know that she’d come back for him later, but let Rory lead her onto the floor during a slower song.

He settled his hand on her back, but Bea didn’t think she would’ve minded if he’d held her like Brian had. She wanted to wipe that memory away, so she inched closer. Rory got the cue and slid his hand down to her waist, carefully pulling her even closer.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, Rory listening to the music and Bea scanning the ballroom. Clint and another daughter of some duchess were dancing nearby, and Clint looked happy. Then, Bea heard the name “Rory” come out of his mouth, along with a stream of inaudible words that sounded exactly like he was gushing. Bea tapped Rory’s shoulder to direct his attention to the pair, who had both been openly staring at him. 

“I think you have a fan club,” she giggled.

“What? No,” Rory protested. “Clint’s a cool guy.”

“He seems to admire you,” Bea said innocently. “I mean, I can’t say I blame him.”

Rory cast another uneasy glance at Clint, then fixed his eyes on Bea. “What?”

“What?” Bea asked.

“You said you can’t blame him?” Rory raised an eyebrow. 

“Did I? I don’t remember saying that,” Bea said, looking away. Rory just laughed and led her into a series of fancy dance moves, beginning with a spin and ending with a neat dip.

“Wow, when did you learn that?” Bea asked, a little breathless from being whirled around.

“Oh, here and there,” Rory said, trying to sound breezy. Bea gave him a disbelieving look.

“Fine, alright, my mother taught me,” he admitted. “But they’re smooth moves, right?”

“Right,” Bea smiled. 

After her dance with Rory, Ajay asked her to dance. He was surprisingly skilled in dancing for a Three, and when Bea mentioned that, he attributed it all to diplomatic parties.

She danced with Clint next, who spent the entire time talking about Rory. Aiden kept commenting on the skill of the violinists in the orchestra, saying a few interesting things but mostly not paying as much attention to the conversation with Bea as she would have liked. Trevor kept stepping on her toes, Max leered at her silently, so much that she had to praise herself for deciding against wearing a dress with a low neckline, and Noah looked like he’d rather have been anywhere else.

Bea caught a break after Noah, because no suitors immediately asked for her hand. Grace was doing her duties and Ajay and Rory were hanging out with Aiden and Gabe by the orchestra. Bea caught a flash of red hair over by the stairs, heading towards her, but then another flash of red hair escaping out to the balcony. Bea decided she needed air, and practically ran away from Brian and towards Skye.

The doors to the balcony were opened, Skye immediately turned to look at her as soon as she stepped out. The lights from the palace shone on her face, making her red hair sparkle just a little bit.

“Hey,” Bea said for lack of anything better to say. Then she cursed herself.  _ What would my grandfather say? _ It wasn’t a greeting befitting a princess.

“...Hey,” Skye replied, turning back to the bannister. Bea contemplated just leaving the girl alone, but ultimately decided against it. She did need a little air, a lot of space from Brian, and she had to admit that there was something about Skye that drew her in. Something about the way she dressed, how dark she wore her makeup, how little she seemed to care about what other people thought. It was very rare and it made her curious, like she couldn't help but want to know more about her.

So Bea walked up to the bannister and leaned against it, too. Not too close but not too far away from Skye.

“Are you okay? I saw what my brother had been doing during that dance.”

_ Great _ . Exactly the topic she’d wanted to avoid.

“I’m okay,” Bea replied. “It must suck to be his sister.”

Skye laughed bitterly. “It does, kind of. But most of the time I’m just invisible to him, like I’m so much lesser than him, that I don’t even matter. He treats me like his personal servant at home, so it’s a welcome change now that he’s devoted all his waking hours to impressing you.”

“Impressing me?” Bea scoffed. “I don’t think he cares what I think of him. He just wants the crown.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him. I don’t think he’s capable of genuine human emotion.”

Bea sighed. “I don’t really want to talk about him,” she said in an apologetic tone. “I just came out here to escape for a little bit. It’s stuff like that that makes me worry about being Queen. Because I’ll be expected to host parties like this, and hosts don’t get time off, you know?”

“It’s hard to fade into the background when you’re Queen,” Skye nodded. 

“I’m growing into it though,” Bea said. “I’ve only been Crown Princess for a few years, and there’s just… so much catching up to do.”

“Hmm. So, besides Brian, how do you feel about the Selection?”

“Honestly? Like it’s one more thing on an endless list of obligations,” Bea laughed. “I already have to figure out politics and international relations and publicity management and how to reign in the team of advisors. And now I have to find a husband, too. My grandfather really wants me to choose Brian.”

Skye wrinkled her nose. “God, I’m sorry. You’re so young, you shouldn’t have to be tied down to any guy. Much less my brother.”

“Yeah, but it’s better this way. I think having a partner will be nice from a stress standpoint. But my parents always wanted me to marry for love. It just happened to work out for them during my dad’s Selection, that he fell in love with my mom. I kind of want that for myself, if that makes sense?”

“It does,” Skye nodded. “You want someone to help you through life, not someone who just wants to grab the crown.”

“Exactly,” Bea said. “And I like some of the guys here, but it’s still hard to imagine marrying one of them.”

“Forget them,” Skye said, turning to meet her eyes. “Just forget about all of them for a second. Get some air.”

Bea breathed in deep, looking up at the stars. Because the palace was surrounded by so much land, the lights of the urban part of Angeles were fairly far away, and the stars were visible. Bea didn’t look at them very often, but they were beautiful.

“I… I like your hair,” Skye said, sounding a little shy. “And your dress, of course. But the gold leaves in your hair are really cool.”

Bea reached up to touch the leaves, smiling at the girl’s comment. “Thanks, Grace came up with it this morning and practically ran down to the seamstress to get them done.”

“She did a good job. It really suits you.”   
  


Bea turned her head to see Skye looking at her.

“I like your dress, too, but I like what you usually wear better,” Bea said. “I’m guessing your mom made you wear this?”   
  


“She said she would burn all my other clothes if I didn’t,” Skye admitted.

“What? That’s horrible!”

Bea knew she must have looked shocked, but Skye just shrugged. “She didn’t want to bring me to the palace in the first place because she thought you’d be offended by my black lipstick--”

“I really like it,” Bea interrupted her. “I like your whole style. You always look so amazing. The dark lipstick really suits you, with the eyeliner and the black dresses and your beautiful red hair. It's such a nice break from all the pinks and other light colors around here.”

Skye blinked. “You… you do?” she asked, turning red.

“I do,” Bea said with conviction. 

“Well, thanks,” Skye replied, then smiled softly. Bea really liked the way Skye looked when she smiled: it was a beautiful expression, and one that Bea guessed was rare. Before the redhead turned back to the sky, she also caught a glimpse of the faint pink remnants of a blush on her cheeks. Something deep inside of Bea felt proud, both that she’d been able to make Skye smile and that she’d been able to fluster her. Talking to her didn’t feel like talking to a friend, like how she did when she talked to Grace or some of the other guys. It felt special.

Bea had barely begun to process that when the sound of yelling came through the door leading back into the Great hall.

“What…?” Bea asked, beelining for the door and heading back into the ballroom, Skye right behind her. 

In the middle of the dance floor, to Bea’s horror, stood Amber and Ian. He was saying something, but more importantly, Amber was sobbing her eyes out like her heart was breaking. Her ladies-in-waiting surrounding her, glaring daggers at Ian.

Before she could think about it, Bea pushed her way through the crowd and rushed over to her twin’s side, not caring who she had to shove out of the way to get there. 

“Ian?” she asked, as softly as she could. “Ian? What happened?”

“It-- I don’t… she says we should get married, and I’m not… I…”

“I  _ love _ you,” Amber cried, lunging towards Ian and grabbing onto his lapels. “You’re the one, I thought we talked about this!”

“We’ve barely been together a few months!” Ian protested, gently taking her hands off his suit. “You don’t love me, there’s no way you can already love me!”

“Don’t try to tell me about my feelings!” Amber screamed, and Bea was getting ready to block Amber from lunging at her twin again when the King Father stepped in.

“Stop this,” he said to Ian in his most terrifying voice, quiet and cold. “You’re making a scene. Leave.”

Not wanting to argue with his grandfather and desperately wanting to leave the room, Ian didn’t protest when the King Father grabbed him by the shoulder and led him out of the Great Room. Amber’s ladies-in-waiting swept her away as quickly as possible. The music started back up, and even though the tone was sober, Bea thought maybe the night was still salvageable.

Thinking fast, she grabbed the nearest guys, who happened to be Andy and Dan. They followed her, bewildered, and she whispered furiously at them.

“Find a lady, I don’t care who, and ask her to dance,” Bea said. “Get all the other guys to do the same. That’s an order from your Princess.”

Dan swallowed and nodded, and Andy echoed him, still reeling from being grabbed. They set off, and not even a minute later, Bea saw Clint walk over to the court lady he had been dancing with before. Jordan asked a very flustered Maria out onto the dance floor as well, which would’ve made Bea smile in any other circumstance.

_ Good _ , she thought. The party was back in order. Now it was time to hunt down the guest of honor and keep him from killing her twin.

Luckily, the King Father and Ian weren’t hard to find, because the former was making no effort to conceal his anger.

“You  _ idiot _ ,” he was saying. “Not only did you  _ ruin _ one of our country’s most promising alliances, you also humiliated the French Empire’s  _ crown princess _ ! How are we supposed to recover from that? Who’s to say the French King won’t declare war on us tomorrow because you broke his daughter’s heart?”

Bea’s heart dropped when she saw Ian just shaking his head, not even seeming to hear what the King Father was saying. His face was blank, but his eyes were filled with tears.

“Hold on,” Bea said, making her presence known to her grandfather, who let go of Ian’s jacket to turn on her.

“You,” the King Father said. “Just great. Did you manage to save the party that your twin ruined?”

His tone sounded unnecessarily accusatory, as if Bea had caused this simply by virtue of being related to Ian.

“There’s no need to blame me,” she argued back, not caring about the consequences of talking back to him. “And you can’t blame him either. Amber has always been a loud presence, you should have known that inviting her to a ball was going to end in a scene.”

“So now it’s her fault that your brother chose the messiest way possible to end his relationship with her?”   
  
He took the chance to turn back on Ian.

“Why couldn’t you just shut up about whatever’s wrong with her and deal with it? That’s what I did with your grandmother, it’s what the Kings of this country have been doing to put up with their wives for decades. I was barely older than you when I married your grandmother. But you can’t ever do a single thing right for this country, can you? Everything has to be all about you. The both of you, you sicken me. You’re going to drive this country into the dirt.”

“That’s not fair,” Bea countered, getting back in his face. “He’s  _ seventeen _ . Our parents wanted us to marry for love, and I know that I don’t get that choice because I’m the heir, but what about him? Ian can marry whoever he wants, or nobody at all.”

“You had better watch how you speak to your King, young lady.” Her grandfather hissed. But Bea didn’t back down. She couldn’t, not with her brother still looking shell-shocked and absolutely emotionally destroyed behind her.

“Three months from now, I’ll be eighteen. I  _ will _ take what's rightfully mine and I  _ will _ outrank you,” Bea said. “And I won’t forget the way you spoke to your Queen.”

Unused to such ferocity from his typically meek granddaughter, the King Father stepped back. He looked surprised, like he didn’t know what to say.

“Just… just talk some sense into your brother,” he finally decided. “See if there’s a way to get that girl back. There has to be, she’s as gullible as they come.”   
  


“Don’t--” Ian started, but Bea wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and he deflated again. The King Father was already walking away when Bea turned back to him.

Once he was gone, Ian collapsed completely against the wall. Bea instantly went into panic mode, not knowing how to comfort her brother. Because that had truthfully been a very embarrassing, messy, public breakup, right in the middle of their grandfather’s birthday party. There was no way to spin that so it seemed even remotely acceptable.

“I… Ian,” Bea started, not sure where to start. Her brother had always been the strong one, endlessly optimistic even in the face of any challenge. She hadn’t seen him like this since their parents and Leon had been killed.

“She… ” Ian said, seemingly not able to string words together. “She proposed… she wanted to marry me… and I yelled at her? I broke up with her… I’m horrible… a piece of trash…”   
  


“No, of course not,” Bea tried, sinking down to the floor beside him as he collapsed even further.

“What have I done?” he wailed, staring into his own hands.

Bea looked around wildly, as if someone or something that could help her with this would suddenly pop into existence. She saw Erin standing in the hallway, almost unrecognizable without her camera. She was watching them with genuine concern.

“Erin?” Bea called, beckoning her over. “Please, I don’t know anything about heartbreak.”

Erin cautiously came closer, kneeling down next to Bea and the sobbing prince.

“Your Highness?” she asked, trying to make eye contact with him. “That was… quite a scene.”

Bea nodded. “Do you know how to help him? I have no idea what I’m doing,” she said helplessly.

“I… yeah, I can help,” Erin said. “Ian, what happened?”

“She asked me to marry her… we’ve only been together a few months…”   
  


Erin frowned. “Isn’t that how you usually do it, though? Arranged marriages for politics, all that?”

Bea shook her head, jumping in. “Our parents wanted us to marry for love,” she explained. “Our grandfather has different ideas, but he didn’t argue about Amber because she’s a princess.”

Erin nodded, seeming to understand. “So you weren’t ready for that, then?” she asked Ian.

“Should I find her?” Ian asked, his voice breaking and his pain-filled eyes finally meeting Erin’s. “I should find her. I should go talk to her, maybe she’ll take me back--”

“No,” Bea and Erin said at the same time, the former holding Ian’s shoulders down so he wouldn’t try to get up. “No, you can’t take her back. It was obvious she wasn’t making you happy,” Bea added, remembering the freaked-out look on his face when they’d been talking the morning of her arrival, and the way he refused to talk about her during the Scrabble game with the Williamses.

“She was! I was happy, but she’s just so… so much,” Ian said.

“I know, but it’s kinder to her to break up with her now if you don’t agree about where the relationship is going,” Erin said, trying to soothe the prince. “Don’t you think she deserves to find someone who is right for her?”

This brought on a new round of sobbing from Ian, and Bea took the moment to look back towards the doors of the Great Room. Surely she was missed at the ball. She had to get back before her grandfather found a reason to yell at her again, or before Brian said something nasty to a court lady and managed to break another alliance.

Ian sensed Bea’s dilemma, and did his best to calm down. “Go back,” he said. “I don’t want Grandfather to yell at you again.”

Bea got up. “Erin, are you okay staying with him? I don’t want him to be alone right now, but…”

“It’s fine,” Erin said. “I’ve got enough footage from tonight anyways.”

“Thank you,” Bea said, leaning down and clasping the girl’s hands between her own. “I owe you.”

“Nonsense, Your Highness,” Erin said, smiling. “Please, just go.”

“Okay, okay,” Bea said, standing up. “Oh, and Erin?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”   
  


“Call me Bea.”

She didn’t even turn back to see the reaction on Erin’s face as she jogged back to the Great Room.

Inside, all the servants were setting up for the feast. A seat had been saved for Bea at the High Table, right next to the empty one where Ian should have been. One look at her grandfather’s stony expression told her that he wouldn’t be missing his grandson’s presence.

As she walked back in, Grace was serving food to the Selected. Bea caught her eye and made a pathetic expression for just a moment before anyone could see her. Grace flicked her eyebrows up in return, signaling to Bea that she wanted to hear about everything later.

Bea pasted her Princess Beatrice face back on and headed up to the High Table, where she sat wordlessly beside her grandfather. As soon as she sat, her grandfather rose.

“A toast, to many more years of Solari,” he said. 

“To the Everhart Family,” added Duke Crandall, and Bea had to resist rolling her eyes. Had the Duke always been that much of a kiss ass?  _ Whatever. _

Just as her grandfather sat, though, a shout rang out across the large room. Bea looked over to see Skye’s horrified expression, her mouth opened as if to warn Bea. The guards sprang into action, but it was too late.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Bea’s torso, and she was pulled backwards from her chair.

  * ••



Grace was in the kitchen refilling her tray with servings of whatever fancy rich-people food that Greg had cooked up for the King Father’s guests when she heard the first scream.

A plate fell from her hands, shattering against the tile floor, but the noise was drowned out by more screams and something that sounded horribly like an explosion.

Grace dashed back to the door to see what was going on, only in time to see one of the decorative columns fall directly onto one of the back tables. The one that some of the Selected had been sitting at.

The scene was chaos, servants and nobles alike running in every direction. The assailants, who Grace hadn’t even accounted for before, seemed to be invisible until Grace’s eyes turned to the High Table, where Bea was struggling in the grip of a man dressed in all black.

_ No, _ she thought, her heart crashing into her chest.  _ Not Bea. _

She started to make her way over, but as soon as Grace looked down to navigate the downed columns and the decorations scattered all over the floor, Bea had disappeared.

Grace felt herself start to panic.  _ Where had they taken her? What did they want? _

She started to run across the room, hoping to get to the place where Bea had disappeared, but she tripped on someone’s leg and fell, her elbows scraping on the floor. 

“Goddammit,” she cursed through her teeth, struggling to stand back up. She saw Frank and some of the other guards pouring through the exit closest to where she’d seen Bea taken, and she knew that they had seen exactly what she had.

Another small explosion, destroying the grand piano over by the orchestra. More screams. Grace was still struggling to stand up when she noticed the leg she’d tripped on.

Blue silk. At the table where the Selected had been seated. She caught a glimpse of a brown ankle above the sock, and gasped.

“Ajay?” she yelled, rummaging through the rubble.  _ He must have been buried when the column fell, _ she thought. “Ajay?”

She heard a soft groan from underneath a pile of flowers, and found him lying there, only half-conscious. Not knowing what else to do, she slapped his face, trying to shock him back into consciousness.

“Ajay? Are you okay? Can you stand?” she shouted, shaking his shoulder. “We need to get out, I don’t know how many more--”

She was cut off by a stream of gunfire.

Ajay nodded, making flailing motions like he was trying to free himself from the rubble. His eyes could barely open behind his broken glasses. Grace helped as best as she could, even trying to lift the column so that he could stand up.

“Come on, Ajay,” she said, pulling him up by his underarms and trying to pull him into a standing position. “You can walk, right?”

As if he could hear her, Ajay took a wobbly step forward, and somehow managed to stay upright. Grace wrapped her arm around his waist, trying to support him to make walking easier. But he was so much taller and heavier than she was, that even with adrenaline on her side, supporting him took more strength than she had.

“You gotta help me here, dude,” she said, but she didn’t think Ajay heard her. Somehow, since he had been seated near the door, they made it just to the threshold before Ajay started to collapse.

Another explosion sounded, seemingly like it was right behind them, and the sound jolted Ajay back into consciousness and he stumbled another few steps forward.

“Good, alright,” Grace said, heartened by the progress they had made. She picked her target: a small servant hideout just a couple yards down the hall. 

The going was easier once they were on flat ground, clear of rubble. Ajay seemed like he was about to fall over every third step, so Grace half-dragged him over to the door and opened it.

She was just in time, because another explosion blew the doors off the Great Room. Ajay collapsed and Grace, all her strength sapped, was powerless to stop him. She just tried to make sure he didn’t land on anything sharp.

As he fell, his hand got stuck on a knot in her hair, messed up from all the running. She whimpered and pushed him away when her hair started pulling painfully on her head.

“Get off, get off,” she grumbled almost nonsensically, because if Ajay could hear her, she wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. But she finally managed to free his hand, then used the rest of her energy to roll him into the hideout.

She felt relieved for a second, knowing that Ajay was safe and that all the guards were doing more for Bea than Grace could, until another barrage of gunfire reminded her of all the others left in the Great Room and the kitchens.  _ Greg and Rita _ , she thought immediately. Her love for them drove her back onto her feet, sprinting down the hallway back into the chaos.

  * ••



  
  


"Let go of me-- No!" Bea struggled against the grip of the large man dragging her down the corridor.

She was only half aware of the explosions and screams going on around her. She caught a glimpse of not only one but dozens of the guards on duty that night lying bleeding on their spots and she feared it might be too late for them.

"Shut up." The man growled at her, shoving a cloth to her mouth to muffle her voice. 

Bea looked around in panic, looking for help, but what she saw made her blood run cold. There were so many of them, men in dark gear and masks. And they were all heading into the palace. 

"Hmmmp!" She tried, but she couldn't spit out the cloth in her mouth. 

She assessed their surroundings. They hadn't gone far, but the hallway was darker and the only people she saw were the rebels chasing down frantic servants and guests with their guns and weapons. 

Tearing up, she got a second to wonder if the others made it out, or if someone thought about Vizmund and took the dog to safety with them. The rebels had taken them by surprise. Bea thought they made sure the security will be tight for the night but it turned out that these rebels were more resourceful than they thought. 

_ Help _ , she thought weakly, as if anyone could even get close enough to read her mind. 

They turned a corner and Bea noticed a shadow on one of the alcoves.  _ More of them _ , she thought.  _ I need to get away from this man… _

"Duck!" someone yelled.

On instinct, Bea used all her weight and she dropped to the ground quickly just as a piece of wood swung just an inch over her head. 

The man holding her was smacked on the face and let go of her instantly, crashing heavily on the floor and Bea scrambled as fast as she could. 

A pair of smaller hands reached out to her and she backed away in fear, only to realize it was Skye, who had dropped the wood she used and helped her get to her feet.

"Skye!" Bea was breathing heavily.

The redhead caught her as she stumbled a bit, unsteady as she was. "You okay?"

"Yes, thank--"

"You little BITCH!" The man had recovered from his shock, blood gushing from his nose and mouth. 

"Go!" Skye pushed her as he barrelled towards them and Bea managed to fall out of the way. The other girl wasn't so lucky. He grabbed Skye on the shoulder and threw her aside. 

Bea reached out for the wood, struggling to hold it upright.  _ How did Skye even manage to swing this thing? _ It was heavy. So she dropped the wood and just pushed the man with all her might before he could lay a hand on Skye.

"What the hell are you doing?" Skye asked, bewildered. "I told you to go!"

"And leave you? No way!"

The man roared, losing his patience with them. He grabbed the gun that he’d dropped when Skye hit him and the two of them froze. "I've had enough of you little girls."

"What do you want?" Bea raised her hands as Skye inched towards her side. 

"I want to kill you, but that's not my call, is it?" the man snarled. "But I can settle for killing your friend here and drag you by your hair if I have to."

"They will get you." Bea said, speaking as firmly as her shaky voice could. "You won't get out of here."

"Who? Your guards are useless. You've seen how dead they are."

"He's focused on you," Skye whispered under her breath. "I'll count to three and you run, understand?"

"What is she saying?" the man demanded, walking a few steps closer with his gun pointed at her face. 

Bea glanced at Skye and noticed the silver fork tucked under her sleeves. "Skye, don't…"

"What do you have in there?" he yelled, his spit flying everywhere and they both flinched.

"What's going on here?" Another man appeared from the end of the hall, wearing a mask and weapons slung all over his body. He appeared to be a bit shorter than the giant troll who kidnapped her.

Her captor relaxed a bit. "I got the Princess, sir."

"Let us go and I'll make sure you will be rewarded," Bea promised. 

The second man sneered. "That's not really how it works, Princess."

"Then tell us what  _ you _ want and I'll make sure to meet your demands as much as we can."

"We want your whole family dead!" The first man growled.

"No shit," Skye mumbled. 

"What do we do with them, sir?" He asked the other man. 

"Just leave it to me." he replied calmly, showcasing his authority. He raised his M16 rifle and Bea stopped breathing.

_ This is it _ , her brain told her.  _ This is how we die _ .

The man pulled the trigger and his colleague dropped to the floor like a stone, blood and gore splattered on the wall meters away caused by a single bullet in the head. 

"Oh my God," Bea gasped, jumping back and unable to stop the whimper from her lips. Even Skye looked horrified. 

The man stepped towards them slowly, watching them. 

Her lips trembled. "Wh--Why did you kill him?" 

He didn't answer. 

Skye put herself in front of Bea. "Not another step."

"Listen," To their further surprise, the man lowered his rifle and raised his arms. He looked around, as if checking if anyone else was around before he removed his mask. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Bea gasped. "This can't be."

The man was much younger than the rough authoritative voice he used on the other guy earlier. He was tall and had a muscular build but much younger than the other. He looked so different than she remembered him, his hair was longer, he had grown a bit of facial hair too and his face was dotted with different kinds of scars. 

"You died years ago, Julian." Bea pointed out. She must be hallucinating.  _ Maybe I hit my head, seeing dead people _ . 

Skye tugged on her arm. "You know him?"

Julian sighed. "I didn't die, I--"

Another explosion shook the entire hallway. Julian looked around in panic, raising his gun once more. "You have to go. I'll cover you as far as I can."

Skye didn't have to be told twice, taking Bea's hand and pulling her down another corridor. "Come on!"

Bea let the girl drag her away, catching a glimpse of Julian putting his mask back on as he shot a few of the rebels dressed just like him. 

They circled back, running as fast as their high-heels could take them. There were explosions and gunfire all around them and the hallway was filled in smoke and rubble. 

"We need to find one of the secret passageways to the--" coughs bubbled on her throat, which felt like closing up from all the smoke she was breathing in. "B-Basement!"

Skye had her nose and mouth covered using some of the lace on her dress. They came across a few rebels, all of them lightening up as soon as they recognized her. 

"The Princess!" One of them pointed. "There she is!"

_ Great _ .  _ Maybe it was a bad idea to wear gold _ . 

Now they have to dodge and avoid as many grabbing hands as they could. Skye knew how to kick properly, sending a couple of men stumbling off the edge and falling somewhere, screaming. 

What they didn't expect was the canister that was tossed towards them, spewing off foul smelling gas that made them gag and retch. 

"Don't-- Inhale it--" Skye yelled over the smoke. 

Bea gathered some of her dress and covered her nose as well. 

A man lunged through the smoke, knocking over Skye and another one grabbed Bea on the shoulder. 

They fought them off with what energy was left in them, but the gas was making them nauseous. 

"HEY!" A voice bellowed. 

Through the blurriness in her eyes brought by the tears, Bea saw three figures in tattered suits and dinner jackets jumped into the fray. 

She recognized Michael's hair as he punched the guy holding Skye, sending the man to sleep. Then the other, Caleb, was using a piece of wood like a baseball bat. The man holding Bea was yanked away and as she fell to her knees coughing, she noticed Jordan had an arm tightly wrapped around the rebel's neck. The two of them struggled a bit before the man finally passed out too. Jordan discarded the body aside.

"Your Highness?" Jordan gaped. The three boys seemed surprised to see her before he came to his senses and offered to help her get to her feet. "Are you hurt?"

"This one is a tough cookie." Michael grinned, pointing at Skye. The girl's hair was messy and her face was covered in soot and dirt from trudging through the rubble. "She stabbed him with a fork. You should have seen his face."

"What are you doing out here?" Caleb asked.

"One of them got me, but Skye saved me and we got away." Bea spoke breathlessly, leaving out the part about Julian. She wasn't even sure if that was real. "What-- what were you three doing here? Where are the others, shouldn't you have joined them?"

"We were separated," Jordan replied, scratching the back of his neck. "And we didn't know our way around."

"So you've been out here playing soldiers?" Skye coughed, her voice sounding rough and strained.

"I know the passageways," Bea took a deep breath, shaking the stupor out of her head. "Let's go."

"You heard the lady." Michael gestured for Skye to go first. 

The five of them moved cautiously through the darkened hallways. Jordan, Caleb and Michael had positioned themselves around her and Skye with their fists and makeshift baseball bat ready. 

There were still rebels sneaking around the palace but Bea also realized they were getting scarce as the palace soldiers had finally started rounding them up. 

The five of them waded through the rubble, the once pristine hallways now covered in ruins and bodies, and Bea had to stop herself from breaking down right there. The scene had already triggered so many memories in her head and she couldn't handle seeing more. 

At last, they located the dead-end hallway as she instructed. A large painting of a tiger was displayed in the far wall next to the fireplace. 

"This is a dead-end." Caleb looked around, confused. 

"That painting," She pointed, and the others all ran to the spot. 

Bea started running her hand on the inside of the fireplace, struggling to feel for the hidden button due to the shaking of her fingers. "Just around…"

"Hurry, I think I hear someone coming." Jordan grabbed a fire poker and gripped it tight, preparing for an attack.

"There!" Bea pressed the button twice once she found it.

The painting hissed as the gears behind it started moving. The gold frames slid aside quietly revealing a sealed metal door which opened next. 

"Go!" Michael gestured frantically.

Bea went in first, knowing there was a staircase, then Skye. Caleb, Michael and Jordan jumped in before the door sealed shut behind them and they were all plunged into the darkness. 

"What the hell?" Jordan said, and his voice echoed. "I can't see anything."

She heard a few scuffling noises as if the boys were feeling around the narrow stairway. 

"Did you bring your lighter, Michael?" Caleb asked.

"No," the guy answered. "The pants they gave me have no pockets."

"Let's just move." Bea instructed. "Please be careful on your steps, it's a long way down."

Her hand on the wall brushed on another hand, a soft smaller hand and Bea held on to it, a simple comfort that Skye was there and they made it safely. 

Only the sound of footsteps and heavy breathing can be heard from them for a few minutes as they descend down the darkened stairs. They couldn't hear anything from the outside, the walls were thick and completely soundproofed. Long minutes after, they reached what felt like the lower basement and another hallway was waiting for them. There were torches this time and the three boys cheered at the first sight of light. 

They heard voices too, and once Bea reached the bottom of the stairs, the guards stationed outside the royal hideout went on high alert. They drew their weapons, which they dropped immediately when they recognized her. "Your Highness!"

Bea, Skye and the three suitors ran to the doors and the guards opened it for them. The people inside jumped. 

The King Father shot to his feet. "Beatrice!"

"Bea!" Ian stood up too, running to hug her. 

They all looked unharmed, and most of the suitors were already there. Jordan, Caleb and Michael collapsed on the floor next to Noah and Mason. Some of the suitors were crumpled on the floor, their faces buried on their knees as they shook. Rory sat on a nearby bed, looking up when Bea and the others had entered. In another corner, Lady Payton was leading a bunch of fellow court ladies in a silent prayer. 

"We were really scared," Ian told her. "We sent guards but they couldn't find you."

"We were held up a few times." Bea explained. "I wouldn't have made it without Skye and those three."

She looked back at the redhead, who was standing nervously near the door, hugging herself. Her blue eyes scanning the people around them. 

"You okay?" Bea asked, concerned.

Skye shook her head. "My parents aren’t here. Or Brian."

Bea sighed. "The palace has more than a dozen hideouts just like this, I'm sure they made it to at least one of them safely."

"Rodger knows his way to the hideouts," The King Father went back to his cot, indifferent. "I assure you they will be safe." 

The girl nodded, but Bea knew she was not convinced. They heard a quiet whimper from beneath one of the beds set up in the hideout and they caught a glimpse of Vizmund's white fur as the dog rushed to their side, sniffing their dirty gowns. 

"Aw, Vizmund!" Bea started to tear up, scratching the back of his ears and practically burying her face on his fur. "You're okay."

"Your bedroom wasn't far from mine so I ran to see if you were there, he was freaking out." Ian explained. 

Even Skye was running a hand on his fur. The light from the fire on the torches illuminated the redhead's face and Bea noticed the long gash running down the side of Skye's cheek, dried blood smearing her neck. 

"Skye, you're bleeding," Bea reached out but the girl flinched as soon as she touched it. 

"No, it--" Skye winced as she said it. "It's fine. I almost forgot it was there."

Bea leaned closer to check it. It looked deep, running from the girl's cheek down to her jaw. "Where did you get this?"

"The man who grabbed me tried to slice my throat before Michael got him away, but I realized he still managed to slice me anyway." Skye whispered. 

"We need to clean this." Bea pulled the girl to a bed on the corner occupied by some of the suitors and they scooted aside to give them space. 

"You don't have to do that," Skye tried to push her away. "It stopped bleeding."

"Here," Ian handed a box of first-aid kit to them.

"Stay right there. We can't let it get infected." Bea rummaged through the contents of the box and found as much cleaning gauze as she could. 

“It’s really not a big deal,” Skye protested, but one glare from Bea was enough to shut her up.

“You saved my life,” Bea said. “I’m not gonna just let you suffer. And anyways, it will take my mind off everything else.”

“...Fine,” Skye relented, staying still so that Bea could clean her wound. Bea had learned first aid after the rebel attacks had begun, wanting to at least be able to save her own life in an attack, if not some others. Even her grandfather couldn’t disapprove, although the frown on his face made it look like he wanted to.

Bea took one last look around the room, cataloguing in her mind who was there and who must have been in another hideout or still in the halls. All of the suitors except Ajay, Andy, and Brian had made it into the hideout before Bea had. Rory shot Bea a warm smile, which she tried to return, but she could feel her hands start to shake and she refocused on Skye’s wound.

“This looks nasty,” Bea noted. “You’re probably going to have a scar, even if we can get you up to the infirmary soon.”

More gunfire, sounding like it was closer than before, made everyone in the room flinch. One of the suitors, Bea thought it was Dan, let out a sob.

Skye tried her best not to flinch while Bea cleaned her wound, but Bea could tell that the girl was hurting a lot from the way her blue eyes filled up with tears. Bea wished she could avoid that, but unless she wanted the redhead to get an even more painful infection, this was the only way that Bea knew to help.

Thankfully, the wound was free from debris, which made cleaning a lot easier. The wound was deep but not very wide, so Bea was confident that with stitches and time, the scar would be less noticeable. Especially given the amount of makeup the girl usually wore.

As she finished cleaning and bandaging Skye’s wound, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander.

Skye looked around the room, then whispered back to Bea. “Is your maid here? I can’t see her.”

Bea shook her head. “I think she and Greg and Rita were in the kitchens. There’s another passageway to a hideout over there, that's where they might have gone. That’s where the servants are supposed to hide.”

“What about the suitors? Did all of them make it over here, besides Brian?”

Bea shook her head, willing herself not to cry. “I can’t see Andy or Ajay either,” she said. “We just have to hope that one of the guards was able to lead them to safety.”

The image in her head of the dozen guards laying in their own blood on the floor popped into her head, and she started to shake. Tears formed in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t be weak in front of her grandfather; he’d just use it against her. She couldn’t look weak in front of the suitors or she’d lose any semblance of authority.

So she hid her face in her hands, allowing herself one small sob before she got herself back under control. She felt Skye’s small hand rest itself on her shoulder, and she leaned into it gratefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, another mystery. Thank you guys so much for the support! We really hope you like this fic :)
> 
> – rulesofthebeneath & abunchofbadchoices


	8. And Then There's Fourteen

It was four hours later by the time Frank came around, banging on the door of the hideout. It scared all the inhabitants half to death, but once he called “All clear!”, deep breaths were taken, sighs of relief could be heard, and even smiles were seen on some faces.

“I have to find my parents and Brian,” Skye said, standing up. “You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be okay once I find Ajay, Andy, and the Williams,” Bea said. “I’ll be okay if nobody has died.”

Skye pressed her lips together, then wrapped her arms around Bea, pulling her into a surprisingly tight hug.

“Oh!” Bea exclaimed, caught by surprise. She returned the hug, patting the redhead’s back.

“I hope your family’s okay,” she said and found that she meant it. Skye pulled herself away from Bea, nodded with her cheeks red, and then practically fled the safe room.

Bea figured her first course of action should be to go up to the infirmary to see the wounded. This move was confirmed by her grandfather’s route up the main stairs to the left wing, and Bea and Ian followed him.

The first person that Bea saw outside of the infirmary’s doors was Grace, who was sitting in the hall anxiously biting her nails.

“Grace!” Bea called, despite an angry look from her grandfather, and Grace immediately looked up. Her entire expression flooded with relief, and she ran at Bea and launched herself into the princess’ arms.

“Thank God, thank God, thank God,” Grace sobbed into the front of Bea’s dress. “I didn’t know where they’d taken you, I didn’t know if the guards would get to you in time, I--”

Bea nodded, returning Grace’s hug quickly before releasing her.

“Greg and Rita?” she asked, and Grace nodded. 

“They’re fine, they’re resting downstairs. They didn’t even get hurt.”

“Good. Did you see the Crandalls? Or Ajay or Andy?”   
  


Grace nodded again. “Loretta and Rodger were hiding out in the servants’ quarters with us, and they’re in their room now, back to being extremely angry about being stuck with a bunch of Sixes. I didn’t see Skye, though.”

“That’s okay, she was with me. Ajay and Andy?”   
  


“Both in the infirmary,” Grace replied.

The infirmary was busy, the beds now fully occupied that some of the injured were already sharing beds. As soon as Bea stepped through the doors in her tattered gold dress, the people stopped whatever they were doing and immediately bowed and curtsied.

Bea surveyed the crowd, they were an equal amount of guests, servants, and guards now lying on the beds. Most were awake and wrapped in bandages. She could hear one on the back was still screaming while the nurses were tending to his burns. There were two who were still passed out cold. 

"How bad?" Her grandfather inquired as soon as the head doctor and the head nurse approached them.

"There were twelve casualties, Your Majesty," the head doctor reported. "Most of them were guards on duty who met the sneak attack and the others were servants. They were taken out of the palace and to the morgue to be taken care of."

"And the injured?" Bea looked around as she asked. Two more injured patients were being dragged in. 

"About forty-eight of them were brought in, some were in critical conditions." The doctor faced her. "My team has been performing triage to prioritize who needs immediate help. The paramedics were still bringing in some of them every few minutes."

"Good," the King Father seemed relieved, probably because there were very few of the special guests harmed last night. He had a few words with Dr. Emery before he left just as quickly as he walked in. 

Bea stayed behind a bit, checking on as many patients as she could to make sure they were comfortable. It broke her heart to see that the majority of the injured people were servants and guards. It was their duty to serve, yes, but the fact that they had put themselves in the line of fire for a living was a reality she wished she could change.

_ An impossible task _ , she thought. The least she could do was to figure out how to stop the rebels once and for all, something that hadn't been done by the previous rulers of the country.

She located Andy among the patients at the back. He had his own bed, but that was because he needed the space for the cast on his leg which was elevated using a contraption tied to the ceiling. He was dressed in a hospital gown, his forearms and face covered in nicks and scratches. He appeared to be asleep while leaning back on his pillows when she approached, but he opened his eyes as soon as he felt a presence nearby.

"Your Highness!" Andy smiled when he saw it was her, he struggled to get up a bit but winced in pain and just fell back. 

"It's okay, try not to move so much." Bea helped him get comfortable on his pillows. 

"I'd, uh, I'd bow, but..." Andy jokingly said, shooting a look at his leg. "You know."

"How are you feeling, Andy?" she asked, worried.

Andy sighed. "I'm doing far better than I expected. Stiff and achy, but better. I'd never broken a leg before but nothing's more painful than to feel your own limb snap. The doctors have me on a drip and some medicines for the pain. They predicted how it will keep me awake at night."

"I'm sorry, Andy," she apologized.

"No, it's not your fault!" Andy said quickly. "I heard the rebels attack the palace regularly, I didn't know how bad it was until I was in that situation. You didn't ask for that, Bea. None of it was your fault."

"Still, I should have doubled the security assignment."

"Have you seen them?" Andy gaped. "There were so many of them! I panicked when I saw them coming in. Tried to follow the others but this explosion knocked me off, a chunk of the wall fell on my leg."

Bea looked down. "Get some rest, Andy. I'll check up on you later."

"You too, Your Highness." The boy smiled despite the wounds and broken bones in his body. "You look like you went through a lot tonight."

A genuine smile curved her lips and Bea waved at him as she was walking away. She had another suitor to pay a visit and Ajay's bed wasn't far from Andy's.

Bea had never seen Ajay without his glasses on and she almost didn't recognize him without them along with bandages on his head and arms. 

A nurse was talking to him, and Ajay was just nodding along and staring on the opposite wall as if he wasn't completely aware of his surroundings yet. Bea approached his bed cautiously and sat on the edge. 

"Bea?" Ajay had to squint a few seconds before he recognized her. 

"If all you see is a blob of gold, then yes," Bea remarked.

He actually snorted at that. "Yes, I see a blob of gold."

The nurse curtsied at the sight of her. "Your Highness."

"How's the patient?" she asked the middle-aged nurse.

"On the mend, ma'am. He had a minor concussion and some bruises and scratches on his arms, but nothing that a few nights of proper rest can't heal."

"That is good," Bea nodded. "He's going to need new glasses?"

"Apparently, they broke during the first explosion," Ajay replied. "I was just telling our nurse here about the specifications of my glasses. I’ll feel weird if they don’t turn out the same as my previous ones."

"Ah," Bea shook her head, smiling. "Down to the tiniest detail, huh?"

"Of course."

"Oh, before I forget," The nurse rummaged in her uniform pockets and pulled out a diamond-studded rose gold hairpin and held it out to Ajay. "I thought you might look for this."

Bea raised an eyebrow. "A hairpin?"

"That's obviously not mine." Ajay let out a confused laugh. 

"It's yours." The nurse insisted. "You were holding it when the guards found you in one of the hideouts. You were passed out but when we tried to take it away, you were protesting."

"I…" He was frowning. "I don't remember anything from last night after the explosion."

"Are you sure, nurse?" Bea asked, equally puzzled. 

"Pretty sure. The doctor who treated him was amused when he refused to let go of it."

"You should keep it, Ajay," Bea told him. "Maybe you'll remember how you got it."

Ajay gingerly took the hairpin from the nurse as if it might explode. "Uh, thanks."

"No problem, sir."

The nurse left to attend the other patients. Bea took it from his hand and examined it. "Didn't take you for a hairpin kind of guy," she teased.

The guy snatched it from her hands and set it on the table beside his bed. "Hopefully, I'll remember enough to return it to its owner because that's definitely not mine."

"It's so pretty," Bea said. "So elaborate. And those were actual diamonds."

"You can tell?"

"Of course." She nodded. "You can't own billions worth of jewelry and not know the real thing."

He looked at her weirdly. "I can't even tell the difference between rocks." 

"You gotta ask Rory about that. I remember he had a rock collection when we were kids and he was so obsessed with rocks."

"That sounds exactly like him."

They shared a laugh, which dropped when another unconscious person was carried past his bed. The person had a red tag dangling on his toes and the medics rushed him to a bed at the back. 

"I hope he'll be okay." Bea sighed heavily. 

"He will. You have a great medical team here," Ajay assured her.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"A bit tired and sore, which was strange for someone who had passed out for six hours. I have a dull headache but the doctor prescribed me some painkillers for when it gets unbearable."

Bea saw the bottles of medicines laid out at his bedside. 

"Oh, and they're allowing me to return to my room. They were confident I'll be fine and I can always ask to be brought in if it somehow gets worse."

"I think you'll be more comfortable in your bedroom," she agreed. "Besides, other people will need the space."

"Are you kicking me out, Your Highness?"

Bea laughed. “Absolutely. Other patients need your bed, and you probably need to be in a quieter environment if you’re going to sleep off that headache.”

“Alright, alright,” Ajay said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I’ll just wait until they roll me out of here. You go on, I’m sure there’s a lot more to do.”

“Thanks,” Bea said, resting her hand on one of Ajay’s shoulders and smiling. “Heal fast, please, and rest up. Don’t hesitate to ask anyone if you need anything.”

A guard walked up to her and bowed, a solemn look on his face. Bea couldn’t imagine what he’d seen while the royal family and their guests had all been hidden away. She gestured for the man to walk with her out of the infirmary and talk to her then.

“What is it, Cortes?” she asked, noting the guard’s name on his uniform.

“Your Highness, General Walter sent me to give you and your grandfather the death report. There were twelve total casualties, ten guards and two staff.”

Bea nodded sadly, trying not to let tears fill her eyes.  _ Stiff upper lip _ , she reminded herself.  _ This isn’t the time to break down _ . 

“I will draft a letter to be sent to the guards’ families; for now, they need to be called and informed before the media knows. Who were the servants?”

“Louis Boulet and Wilfred Garth.”

Bea immediately shrank back a little bit. A head chef? And one of the butlers… he must have been looking for his Selected. 

“Thank you, Cortes,” Bea said, dismissing him.

The guard walked off, and Bea looked around to locate Grace. 

The girl was still sitting in her corner, watching all the chaos but feeling about as powerless as Bea was to help.

“Grace, do you know Louis Boulet and Wilfred Garth?”

Grace’s eyes widened. “Yeah, the head chef and Ajay’s butler. Why?”

“ _ Ajay’s _ butler?” Bea asked, incredulous. 

“I’m pretty sure. Why?” Grace asked again, looking increasingly anxious as if she already knew what Bea was going to say.

“They were killed during the attack,” Bea said. Grace took a deep breath.

“Oh no,” she said, sucking in a breath. “Oh, that’s not good.”

Bea shook her head. “No, it’s not. I’ll have the guard I spoke to spread the word, but I need you to go speak to Greg, and then I want you to pick one of the male staff to start training to be Ajay’s new butler.”

“Of course,” Grace nodded, “but butler training takes a few weeks at least.”

“I know, but it’s the best I can do. For now, could you and some of the other maids help out? He’ll probably be on bed rest for a week, but after that, he’ll go back to normal.”

“Sure, I can talk to some of the others,” Grace said. “If we split it between a few of us, it won’t be that much extra work.”

“Good. Thank you, Grace.”

“It’s no trouble,” Grace smiled. “So he’s okay, then? Ajay?”

“Mild concussion,” Bea said. And then, since Grace hadn’t asked: “Andy’s got a broken leg.”

“Oh no,” Grace repeated, her eyes filled with sorrow. 

“I know. Okay, go talk to Greg and the staff,” Bea said. “And once you’re done, come meet me in my rooms.”

Grace nodded and hurried off.

Bea squared her shoulders and returned to her brother’s side, who had been waiting down the hall with Vizmund.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Kind of puts my breakup in perspective,” Ian sighed. “Amber and her friends are all fine, scared but fine. They left as soon as the all-clear sounded. I can’t really blame them.”

"Yeah, and I'm glad they were safe," Bea agreed, shaking her head thinking. "I don't think it would bode well for our alliance with the French government if they find out their princess got her heart broken  _ and _ got physically harmed by rebels while in our care in just one night." 

"I'm sorry." The look of utter guilt was back on her brother's face. Knowing him, he would remain feeling guilty for hurting Amber for a long time and also worry about an important alliance that he might have put at risk. "I wish I could just take--"

"Don't." Bea put a hand on her twin brother's shoulder. "I like Amber, she's really nice despite how…  _ highly _ energetic and enthusiastic she is most of the time. But you two had been going too fast for a couple who don't even see each other every day, and I was worried you'd find yourself in a situation you cannot back away from. So as messy as that was, I'm glad it happened."

"Thank you, Bea. I-I'm still not sure what to feel but I'm happy that I have you on my corner. I can't believe you talked back to Grandpa. That must be scary."

Bea laughed nervously. "You have no idea."

"But it took a lot of guts," Ian added. "I'm kind of proud you stood up to him."

"Aw, come on. I just took him by surprise. He'll find a way to get back at me."

"Don't let him. Show him he can't just do that anymore. Not when you're becoming who you're meant to be."

"Ian…" Bea pouted at how sincere he said that. 

"I think we better get some rest." Ian put an arm over her shoulder and beckoned her to move down the hall. "It's still too early in the morning and we didn't really have any chance to sleep. Besides, you look more like a pauper now than a princess."

_ And there he is _ . 

"What does that even mean?" She tried to comb her hair with her fingers. It was tangled and smelled like smoke. 

Ian laughed and she pushed his shoulders but she joined in anyway. Vizmund jumped around them as they walked and playfully pushed each others' shoulders.

  
  


  * ••



  
  


Bea woke up with the heavy feeling on her stomach. Opening her eye a little, she realized there were two furry hind legs on her stomach as Vizmund must have moved around in his peaceful sleep and somehow ended up lying horizontally on the bed with his head lying on Ian's leg. 

Ian himself was fast asleep, in blue silk pajamas and limbs splayed out occupying a considerable amount of space in  _ her _ bed alongside Vizmund. Bea slept on her back like a normal human being with the little space that she was sharing with Grace, who was sleeping on her side next to her. 

She smiled. That morning, when she was preparing to go to bed after an eventful and quite disastrous night, she asked Grace to go sleep with them since they all didn't get any rest during the attack. 

Ian tried to convince her too but the other girl was quite adamant that she couldn't, nervous that she might get in trouble if caught sleeping on the princess' bed, so Bea told her to just stay for a bit till she, Vizmund, and Ian fell asleep. 

Grace must have laid down while she was waiting for her to be free to go and ended up nodding off herself.

Even in her maid's uniform, Bea couldn't help but notice how Grace could easily be mistaken as a noble lady. She had clear skin, too clear for someone who worked as a servant all her life, with prominent features and the personality of a well-educated girl who knew more than she was showing. 

It was the way Grace carried herself that Bea couldn't help but envy sometimes. For all the time Bea had known her, Grace had never let anyone step all over her. Something she truly admired. 

It was probably time to get up and find some food, but Bea didn't want to wake the girl up or risk freaking her out as Grace might fall off the bed. 

Bea was thinking about how best to carefully step out of bed without disturbing either of the sleeping people or the sleeping dog, but a sharp knock on the door decided for her.

Grace startled violently and fell off the bed, cursing, just as Bea had predicted. She groaned when she hit the ground and sat up, rubbing her back. Vizmund was there in an instant, licking her hands and face, trying to help her feel better.

“Ugh, smelly breath,” Grace complained, still half-asleep, making no effort to push the dog away. Ian was stirring, too, opening half an eye and burrowing further into the blankets. Bea stood up, offered a hand to help Grace up, and then went over to answer the door herself.

Maria’s eyes widened as she took in the crown princess with messy hair in just her nightgown. Grace was trying to make it look like she was working in the background, and Ian hadn’t even bothered getting out of bed but had sat up and was scratching Vizmund’s ears.

“Your Highness,” Maria said once she recovered, dropping into a neat curtsy. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there are some things going on that require your attention.”

“Sure, I’ll get ready. Here, come in, talk to me while I get dressed.”

“...Certainly, ma’am,” Maria said, blinking but stepping into the room and closing the door. Bea stepped behind the screen near her closet to shed her nightgown and pull on her proper underclothes. Grace was already rummaging through her closet and ended up pulling out a short blue day dress, which Bea approved with a thumbs up over the screen.

“Some of the Selected have been asking to go home,” Maria explained. “Gabriel and Trevor. We also need to talk to Andy, since his broken leg isn’t responding to treatment as well as the doctors had hoped. And Dan has been refusing to leave his room or to allow anyone inside. Even his butler.”

Bea sighed. “Okay, if they’re asking to go home, in light of everything that happened yesterday, I think they should be allowed. I don’t want to force anyone to stay in danger,” she said. “I’ll go see them, give them a few hours to think about if they truly want to leave. I’ll also speak with Andy’s doctors, and I’ll see if I can do anything for Dan.”

Maria nodded. “Excellent, Your Highness. Have Trevor and Gabe let me know if they’re staying or leaving once they’ve thought about it.”

Bea stepped out from behind the screen and sat at her vanity, prompting Grace to start combing her hair. 

“Can I do anything?” Ian asked. “I can talk to some of the guys if you want.”

Bea thought for a moment. “You can talk to Trevor and Gabe if you want,” she said. “They might think I’m pressuring them to stay if I’m the only one who talks to them. Just let me speak to them first.”

“I’ll take Vizmund for a walk, too,” Ian said, “and then I can try to fend off Grandfather.”

“No need,” Maria said. “Your grandfather specifically requested that everyone in the palace take the day off to recover from the shock since there were so many casualties. He already arranged for caterers to bring meals for everyone, and cleaners and repairmen are coming through to help restore the castle. Most of the guests left this morning.”

Ian flopped backward on the bed. “Hallelujah!”

“Miss Maria, did His Majesty give the servants a day off too?”   
  


“I don’t think so,” she said. “The cooks all have a day off to grieve, and most of the butlers and maids won’t have much to do as the cleaning crew is taking care of the castle, so all guests and family members are being asked to stay in their rooms. But the stablehands and the gardeners still have to work, and so do the maids and butlers if anybody needs anything. I think you’re also being asked to help the caterers serve. The guards, of course, are still working, although I believe that the ones closest to the deceased have been given the day off as well.”

Grace nodded and finished off Bea’s hair with a neat braid and a blue ribbon. Bea turned to Maria.

“My grandfather told you all of this?” she asked.

Maria nodded.

Bea whistled. “That’s going above and beyond the call of duty,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s trying to see if you’d make a good lady-in-waiting for me.”

“It would be an honor,” Maria said, “but I highly doubt it. Anyways, Your Highness, I have to go speak to some others. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, thank you, Maria,” Bea said. Maria curtsied and left, and Bea turned to Grace.

Grace was using Bea’s brush on her own hair and adjusting her own makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes. 

“Can you go see if Ajay needs anything?” Bea asked. “Then you should probably take the day off and go be with Greg.”

Grace nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m sure he’s not feeling great right now. He really liked Lou.”

“Send him my love, okay?” 

“ _ Our _ love,” Ian added, finally having gotten out of bed. He was rummaging around for Vizmund’s leash, the white fluffy dog looking more and more excited by the second.

“And make sure to bring Ajay that tea he likes,” Bea added. “He’s probably pretty upset about Wilfred.”

“No doubt,” Grace nodded. “And I’ll come to check on you tonight, okay?”

Bea shook her head. “No, I gave you the day off.”

A small smile appeared on Grace’s face. “Watching out for you isn’t work. What was it that you said last week, that I’m your older kind of sister?”

Bea pressed her lips together, pulling the maid in for a tight hug. “Yeah, you are. Okay, if you insist, but I don’t want you stressing yourself out too much.”

“Touche,” Grace retorted, and then once Bea freed her from the hug, she had disappeared into the hallway.

Bea turned at last to her brother. “Thank you for taking Vizmund.”

“No problem. He and I can both use the fresh air. I have… a lot to think about.”

Bea patted his shoulder. “Just don’t beat yourself up too much, okay? You did what you had to do.”

Bea and Ian left the room together, walking down the same hall towards the grand staircase.

_ Who should I go see first?  _ Bea wondered. Gabriel and Trevor probably needed the most urgent attention, but Dan seemed like he was in a dangerous situation, and Bea just felt bad for all the pain that Andy must have been in. But as she climbed the stairs to the third floor, where the guys were staying, the first door she saw was Gabe’s.

***

Grace gently knocked on Ajay’s door, a cart with tea on it at her side. She’d realized at some point that she was the only person in the castle who both knew how to make Ajay’s favorite tea and had time to do it, so she figured she’d bring some to him when she checked up on him.

Ajay opened the door, his normally gelled-back and carefully combed hair kind of unkempt, sticking up in the back. He wore pajamas.

“Miss Grace,” he said, sounding surprised. 

“I have tea,” Grace offered, and Ajay smiled a little.

“Come in, come in,” he said, opening the door enough for her to fit through.

Grace knew that Bea had chosen the decorations for the suitors’ suites, but she’d never been inside one before. The walls were forest green, the floor a lush carpet, the entire room just giving off insanely comfortable vibes with the sheer amount of blankets and soft chairs. Ajay had filled up a bookshelf, partially with books stamped with the Royal seal that he must have borrowed from the library, and partially other books, some in a foreign language, that he must have brought from home.

Grace gently delivered the tray holding the teapot and some cups onto the table near the window, where Ajay had scooted two chairs facing each other. One of them had imprints from his heels in the seat.

“Thank you,” he said. “Come, sit with me for a bit. You can have some tea.”

Grace froze, not sure whether or not it was appropriate to accept an invitation from one of the Selected. But Bea had asked her to check in with him, and this was probably the best way to get him talking.

“Um, thanks,” Grace said, pouring two cups of tea and sitting gingerly in one of the chairs. “So, how have you been? How’s your head?”

“I’m alright,” Ajay said. “Just somehow tired and restless at the same time. My head hurts, but I have medication for that.” He picked up one of the mugs and sipped the tea gently. “This is good, as always. Did you make it?”

“I did,” Grace said. “I’m glad you taught me and Bea how to make it.”

“Especially because of what happened to Wilfred,” Ajay agreed. 

“Yeah, that… I’m really sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

“I just mostly feel bad that I didn’t get to the proper hideout,” Ajay said. “They said he was killed while he was looking for me.”

Grace winced. 

“Did he have a family?” Ajay asked. “If he does, I want to write to them, express my sympathy.”

“I think so,” Grace said. “I can ask around for you if you want.”

“Thank you,” Ajay said. “How are you? Did you get injured during the attack?”

“No, I was just exhausted,” Grace said. “But all of us in the palace have been through enough of those before that we pretty much know how to get to safety.”

“Good, good,” Ajay said. “What about the others? Are any of the other Selected hurt?”

“Andy’s got a broken leg,” Grace mentioned, “and I heard that some of the other guys are wanting to go home. But they might just be scared now but realize that it isn’t so bad.”

“I mean, one of us is going to be Prince Consort,” Ajay agreed. “That would make us even more of a target for rebel attacks. If they can’t take it now, there’s no way they could handle the responsibility of being the Queen's partner.”

“True,” Grace said. “What about you? Do you think you can handle it?”

Ajay thought for a second. “I do. I have a calm mindset during diplomatic emergencies, and I’d like to think that I’m good in other kinds of emergencies as well. But I spent too much of this one unconscious for me to really know how I’d fare. Perhaps I’d be more scared if I had actually seen how things were going on back there.”

“It wasn’t very fun,” Grace said, remembering pulling Ajay along carpet stained with rubble and blood, of unearthing him from the pile of smoking decorations in the dining hall. It was better if he didn’t know about that. 

“My memory of it is slowly coming back,” Ajay said, “but I’m still having trouble remembering how I got from the Great Room to the hideout.”

Grace just shrugged, playing dumb. “Maybe one of the guards saw you,” she said noncommittally.

“That must have been it. So, anyway, how long have you been working here?”

“A few years,” she answered. “How about you, how long have you been working with your father?”

She desperately wanted to move the conversation topic back to him. Grace didn’t like talking about herself at all. There were just too many things she was afraid she’d say that she really, really shouldn’t. She’d already let a crucial part of her background slip when Ajay and Bea had crashed Grace’s late-night snack. Judging by the shock on Bea’s face when she’d heard that Grace had lived on the streets, she knew she couldn’t elaborate.

“A few years too,” Ajay said. “I really like his job, and people say it suits me. If I don’t win the Selection, I’m going to be his apprentice.”

“What kinds of places do you go to?”

“Most eastern New Asia, the big population centers,” Ajay said. “We mostly go to the capital, Hong Kong, but sometimes my father has to meet with regional leaders.”

_ Hong Kong, _ Grace thought. She’d never been there, of course, but when she was a kid, she’d heard her dad talk about the huge, beautiful urban island. 

Instead of saying that, though, Grace simply smiled politely and took another sip of her tea.

“What about you? Where are you from?”

_ Goddammit,  _ Grace thought. This fool’s politeness was going to get them both in trouble. But it’s not like she couldn’t answer, so she decided to tell a modified version of the truth.

“Angeles.”

“Ah. Forgive me, but I thought you might be New Asian,” Ajay said. “You look like you are, or at least like you have that ancestry.”

Alarm bells went off in Grace’s head, and she felt herself automatically start shutting down. The conversation was getting far too personal, and Grace didn’t want to share this part of herself. Not with some guy she barely knew. If she ever told anyone, it would be Bea or Greg and Rita. Certainly not Ajay, even though she knew he didn’t mean any harm.

She stood up quickly.

“Excuse me,” she said, “I have some other things to do. Thank you for the tea, though.”

Ajay stood up too. If he was surprised by Grace’s abruptness, he didn’t let it show.

“Yes, thank you for the company, Miss Grace.”

***

  
  


It was a couple of hours before dinner time when Bea and Grace navigated the second-floor hallway towards the wing where the suitors had been staying. 

Grace was pushing a meal cart beside her, hopefully, the meal they prepared wouldn't go to waste. Maria had someone keep a close eye on Dan's room, sending people to bring him food to his room but no one had been successful so far. 

_ He doesn't even answer _ , they said. It was like there was no one in his room.

So Bea took it upon herself to do it in person and maybe, Dan will respond to her. She asked Grace to make some warm soup since he hadn't seemed to have eaten since the night before. 

Clutching the master key in her hand, Bea was really hoping she didn't need to use it. She felt uncomfortable opening someone's bedroom without permission from the occupant. She was also advised not to go inside alone, in case Dan reacts badly on someone going inside his room.

For her though, Bea knew he wouldn't respond well if multiple people started crowding around him. She had never dealt with something like this before. She had seen a few people freaked out after a rebel attack like that, but never one who locked himself up.

"Here it is," Grace gestured for the door at the end of the hall. "Are you sure you want to go in alone?"

Bea shrugged. "I don't know, but the goal is to make him open up. We just have to hope he trusts me enough."

"But what if…"

"Grace, it's fine." She insisted, nodding to the guards stationed at the end of the hallway. "If something happens, just yell and they'll come running. You know how it is."

"Okay." The older girl conceded.

Holding up her index finger on her mouth, Bea whispered to Grace to stay quiet as she approached the door. She pressed her ear against the wood paneling, listening, but as the other servants had said, it was so quiet inside like no one was even in it.

She knocked her knuckles carefully on the door, three times. "Dan? It's me, Bea. Are you in there?"

No response.

"Dan? Come on, I brought you some food."

She exchanged worried glances with Grace. It wasn't working. If he was inside, he should have heard her by now. Grace pointed for the key but Bea shook her head but she knew the other girl was right.

"Listen, Dan," Bea continued talking to the door. "I'm going to open your door. I'm worried. If you don't want that to happen, just say so now."

They waited a few moments to listen if he would say anything but there was nothing. Bea sighed heavily, inserting the old key into the hole under the doorknob and twisted. The door lock clicked open and she was able to push the door gently. 

She didn't know what she was expecting, maybe a weird smell or something, but the room smelled like a normal unoccupied bedroom. Bea peeked from behind the door. It was dimmed, the last afternoon light could barely pass the thick curtains on the window. 

It took her seconds for her sight to adjust in the surroundings and she saw a figure curled up on the bed. "Dan?" She called, almost in a whisper. It was so quiet he had to have heard it. "Dan, is that you?"

"A-Are… Are they back?" a weak shaky voice answered. "Did they come to kill everyone?"

_ Oh boy _ , Bea sighed. If the room was designed like the others, the light switch must be just by the doorway. 

"No, Dan." She said. "It's just me. Can I turn on the lights?"

"What if they'll see the light?" 

"No one's going to hurt you, Dan," Bea said softly. "You're safe now."

The lone figure on the bed raised his head. "Am I?"

_ Is he? _ Bea asked herself too. The palace, with all its grandeur and thick concrete walls, brought out a certain sense of security but it was only just that. No one was ever safe. She and her brothers and the children before them were taught that as soon as they were able to understand. 

"We're safe for now, or for a long time." She replied as honestly as she could. "How are you, Dan?"

"I-I'm not sure. I feel funny." 

"Can I turn on the lights?"

There was a moment of silence. 

"It's just me, Dan. Bea. And don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt you." 

"Okay…" he breathed, almost uncertain.

Bea pressed the lights on and took in the surroundings. The room was a mess, probably when the rebels went through the rooms last night to wreck as much as they could. His cabinets and closets were all opened and the contents pulled out, spilled all over the floor. 

The bed was intact, though. And Dan, still in his grubby party clothes, sat curled up on top of the torn off bed covers.

His hair was even messier than before as if he spent all day ruffling it. And his eyes, his eyes were swollen and red, as if he hadn't slept a wink for a day. 

"See?" She gave him a reassuring smile. "They're gone, Dan. The guards had sent them away."

Dan shook his head and buried his face on his knees. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"Aw, Dan," Bea rushed to his bedside and put a hand on his shoulder, which he instantly flinched from. 

"Sorry," She mumbled.

"No, it's fine," Dan rubbed at his face, looking so tired.

"Did you even sleep at all?"

"I couldn't. I-I didn't know when they're coming back."

There was genuine fear in his voice and Bea wondered if he had seen something that made him this scared. She didn't ask though, she knew he had enough in his mind. 

"I'll station a few guards outside your room if that's going to make you feel a bit safer." 

"You-- You don't have to do that."

"I know, but you were here as my guest, and I'll make sure you'll feel comfortable and safe, as safe as can be. Unless…"

"Unless?"

Bea looked down. "Unless you'd rather be home. To your family. I cannot guarantee you'll be a hundred percent safe as long as you're in the palace, Dan. And I don't want to keep you or the others in here where you fear for your life every minute."

Dan stared at the far wall, thinking. He nodded after a bit. "I'll… I'll think about it."

"That's all I asked." She smiled softly, he didn't shrug her hand off when she put it on his shoulder again. "But first, you got to let your butler fix this place, Dan. And you need something to eat. I promise it will help you feel better, at least. Grace?"

Dan stiffened when the door swung open once more as Grace pushed the cart in, this time, Dan's butler was right behind her.

"Hey, it's okay," Bea looked down and put a hand on his cheek. "I'll let you eat and clean up, but remember what we talked about?"

Dan nodded. "Thank you, Your Highness."

"Bea." She corrected him.

"Bea." He said quietly.

Bea gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before she went to the door to talk to his butler. "He'll be alright, but keep a close eye on him, okay?"

"Noted, Your Highness." The butler bowed. 

"Let's go, Grace."

Grace was already on her way out when she looked at her. The two of them shot the boy one last worried look before closing the door behind them. 

  * ••



  
  


Andy didn't look happy when she next came to the hospital wing to see him.

The place was less crowded than earlier that day, only the patients in need of close medical attention were kept in, including Andy, who had gotten more sullen the more he stayed under the care of the doctors. 

"Andy?" Bea spoke as she got closer to his bed.

The nurse checking his vitals took one look at her and curtsied, leaving the two of them. Andy grunted, but didn't meet her eyes.

She waited until the nurse was gone before Bea took a seat on the edge of his bed, trying to meet his eyes. "Did I come at a bad moment?"

"No, uh… not really." Andy shook his head. "It was just a bad day."

Bea frowned. "What happened?"

"The doctors had been doing tests all day."

She should have known. Maria had mentioned how Andy's injuries don't respond with any common treatments so they must have done some more tests. Bea felt bad for him. Andy was a very active guy, constantly on the move. She always found him outside during their free time, playing tennis or soccer with the other suitors. Now he was confined in the hospital wing, and he couldn't even leave his bed.

Bea sighed heavily. "I'm sorry to hear that." 

Andy just shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m glad it’s not worse.”

The doctor showed up at Andy’s bed. “Your Highness,” she greeted Bea. “Andy, do you mind if Bea listens while I give my medical report?”

“Of course not,” Andy said, shooting Bea a winning smile. She rolled her eyes.

“Alright. So, we’ve found that there’s an infection in your leg. We don’t know what kind or where it came from, but we have a few ways of treating it. Unfortunately, it will require you to stay here for another week at the very least.”

Andy groaned. “Another week? But then I can’t do my duties for the Selection.

Bea and the doctor shared a look, and Bea knew what she had to do, even if it broke her heart. Dr. Emery conveniently excused herself and moved on to another patient.

“Andy,” Bea said comfortingly, “I would rather you focus on healing than deal with the stress of the Selection. It might be best if you… end your participation in the competition.”

Andy’s face fell. “You’re kicking me out?”

“Not because I want to,” Bea said. “But you heard Dr. Emery. The stress could risk your health. But, if you want, I would love it if you would stay here while you recover.”

“So the other guys can rub it in my face?” Andy said dejectedly, his shoulders drooping.

“No,” Bea said indignantly. “If they do, tell me and I’ll have them all sent away. I want what’s best for you. The palace has the best doctors in the world, and I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can. Even if you aren’t in the Selection anymore.”

Andy sulked, but Bea could tell he was accepting what she was saying. “Alright, let me think about it? And can I have a phone to call my parents?”

“Certainly,” Bea said. “I’ll have your butler see to it.”

“You won’t fire him, will you?” Andy asked, his eyes going wide with worry. “Just because I’m here? I can tell he really likes his job. He’s a great guy, loyal and responsible. You can’t fire him.”

“I don’t think I can justify paying a butler with only one duty, though,” Bea said, her mind racing. “But if you don’t mind… one of the other Selected, Ajay, lost his butler during the attack. If you’d like, I could have your butler transferred to him, but still be responsible for bringing you meals.”

“That would be amazing,” Andy said, reaching for Bea’s hands. She let him take them: his hands were surprisingly warm, even though he was supposed to be sick. Maybe it was the infection.

“Anything else?” Bea asked.

“Just… thank you. For everything, for allowing me to stay, for choosing me as one of the Selected,” he said. “Even if it didn’t last as long as I’d have liked.”

“Oh, Andy,” Bea sighed, overcome with affection. She leaned in and kissed his cheek gently. “I wish you could’ve stayed longer, too.”

Andy squeezed her hands and then let go, and Bea left the infirmary. It was time to go to Gabriel, Trevor, and Dan. She knew what she had to do. If they couldn’t handle the pressure of the attacks, how well would they do as Prince Consort? She had to send them home.

  * ••



  
  


"And then there's fourteen." Grace suddenly spoke, standing next to her on the balcony.

The two of them watched the three butlers and a few servants as they were loading up suitcases and luggage on the black luxury car waiting in front of the palace. 

The three suitors followed in next, Gabriel, Trevor, then a nervous Dan. Bea had talked to them last night, asked them how they were and if they really were serious about wanting to go home. Gabriel and Trevor had already decided about it, but Dan… Well, it was obvious the boy wasn't sure what to do next. The idea of another rebel attack terrified him, but going home so soon made him disappointed too.

None of them could see her from their spot on the third-floor balcony. She was leaning forward on the banister, not sure what to feel as well. She knew she didn't feel anything for any of these boys, but she was hoping to get to know them better because she had learned so much about the outside world just from the bits of stories she managed to get from them. On the other hand, as more of these suitors left, the more she felt the weight on her shoulder lifted. She was able to breathe more, get more time for the remaining ones.

"Poor Dan," Grace sighed heavily. "Look at him, he doesn't want to go."

"He had to," Bea replied, looking at the other girl. "You know that was not the last time we will see those rebels, Grace. They will come back. They won't stop until they kill Grandpa, and Ian, and especially me."

"Well, if they have enough patience. They cannot kill you that easily."

Bea raised an eyebrow at Grace. "Unless we somehow find a way to turn my skin into steel or give me regenerative cells, they can indeed kill me."

Grace stared at the sky, thinking. "I'll make you some bullet-proof dress from now on."

Bea shook her head, grinning at how ridiculous that suggestion was.

"I heard the Crandalls are vampires," The girl said. "Maybe you can ask one of them to bite you. Oooh, what about Skye?"

She burst out laughing, brushing off the tingle on the skin on her neck at the thought of the redhead in her dark makeup biting her. ... _ what? _ "You're silly."

"Just you watch, I will come up with an idea that will make you invincible."

"And I'll tell Skye that you think her entire family were vampires," Bea warned, pretending to be serious until the smile on her face proved it otherwise.

"I didn't say that," Grace protested. "Some of the servants do!" 

Bea looked back at the view beneath them, the car was long gone by now. She didn't even notice. She couldn't help but smile just by imagining the look of confusion on Skye's face when she tells her about that. 

The same smile melted when Bea realized the last time she saw Skye was the time they left the hideout. Which was almost two days ago.

She had seen Brian walking around, even the Duke and his wife, but never Skye. Bea was used to catching a glimpse of the girl's red hair even in passing, or see Skye playing with Vizmund on the garden when Bea was cooped up in the study doing paperwork with her grandfather. She didn't see her at all since they last separated.

"Grace," Bea turned to the girl beside her. "Have you seen Skye lately?"

Grace thought about it for a few seconds, then shook her head. "I don't think so?"

"You're not sure?"

"No, I'm pretty sure. Now that I think about it, I really haven't."

"I wonder if she went to the infirmary at all."

"Why?" Grace asked. "Was she hurt?"

"She got a long cut on her face. It looked nasty."

"I'll go ask around for her if you want," the girl offered. "Her maids really like gossiping with me."

Bea nodded, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. Grace put a hand on her shoulder and squeezes gently before going back to her work.


	9. Fairy's Wheel

Bea was sitting at her desk, going over what felt like the hundredth legal document that her grandfather had insisted she memorize, when there was a frantic pounding at her door.

“Come in,” she called, and Grace stepped in, smoothing down her maid’s uniform.

“My lady, I found Lady Skye. Her maids are packing up her stuff, they say she’s leaving.”

“Hm?” Bea asked, not understanding at first. She looked at the other girl, confused as she put her signature on the bottom of the paper she was reading when what Grace had been saying finally sunk in. The pen fell from her hand and the pieces of papers on her desk were suddenly forgotten. “What did they tell you? Why is she leaving?”

Grace shook her head. “I don’t know, they wouldn’t tell me. The official word is she’s going back home.”

“But she’s finally starting to enjoy it here,” Bea said, standing up. “Okay. I have to go see what this is about.”

Grace grinned. “I knew you’d say that. Can I come?”

"Yes, but we should probably arrange these properly before we can go." She rushed to collect the documents into folders. Bea had at least a few more trade deals to read and sign through as soon as she came back to them. Grace helped her arrange the papers in a neat pile before they ran out of the room, almost startling the guards standing outside study doors. 

A few people had tried to stop and talk to her on their way to the Great Hall, but she barely heard them over the sound of her own head.

_ What could have happened that made Skye suddenly pack up and leave? _ Bea knew it wasn't because the attack had scared the hell out of Skye. The girl was way tougher than that. She had seen how Skye surged through the hallways knowing there were rebels around every corner.  _ No, this was something else, probably the same reason Skye hadn't shown up for the last couple of days.  _ She didn't understand why Skye didn't mention any of this before; not because Bea was the host, but because she thought she had somehow gotten to connect with the redhead. 

Bea cursed the palace for being so big, the stairs for being so high. The study was located in the south wing on the second floor, so it would take a couple of minutes to climb the stairs to the third floor where the guests had been staying. 

"Which one was her room?" Bea asked, scanning the hallway as they passed.

"Right this way." Grace took the lead, steering her to the west wing and surely, there was one door left slightly ajar at the end of the hallway.

Bea reached it first, and her attempt to knock pushed the door all the way open. 

"Skye?"

Three maids stopped whatever they were doing at the sight of her, dropping their towels and brooms and immediately curtsied.

"Your Highness." They greeted in unison.

"Hi," she replied distractedly, looking around the room for a certain small redhead girl. "Where's Lady Skye?"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but you just missed her," Leah, as Bea remembered her, said. "Lady Skye left a while ago. We were just cleaning up the room."

Bea let out one deep breath, turning to Grace who looked a bit windblown from running. "Downstairs. Let's go."

Grace shook her head, smiling as they hurried back to the stairs. Today, Bea was wearing flats. Peach leather doll shoes. And she mentally patted her back at her choice when she dressed up earlier. It would suck to run like this in heels.

"Bea!" Rory called when he and Ajay saw her coming down the stairs to the Great Hall, a bright smile on his lips which turned into confusion when he realized she wasn't coming for him.

"Hi, Rory." She smiled back, taking his hand and letting go as she passed. Looking back she saw him exchanging confused glances with Ajay.

Bea and Grace crossed the Great Room and the huge palace doors were opened as the guards greeted her. 

_ And there they were _ .

Skye stood next to her luggage, and her parents a few feet away, looking somewhat anxious. Bea couldn't see her red hair, probably because the hood of her black dress coat was covering most of her head and the side of her face. 

The three Crandalls turned when they heard the guards, surprise on their faces. Bea was breathing hard from all the running but once she saw that Skye hadn’t left yet, she tried to control her breathing and walked like a princess again, as if she hadn't run three flights of stairs in a hurry. Grace was right behind her.

"Leaving without saying goodbye?" Bea asked as soon as they were within earshot.

"Bea." Skye sighed heavily, like she knew Bea would come, then curtsied when she got a stern look from her parents. "I mean, Your Highness."

"Princess." Rodger Crandall bowed. "We were just seeing our daughter's departure."

"To where?" she asked.

"Home, Your Highness." Lady Crandall responded. "We decided it would be best if we send her back to our estate in Lakedon."

Bea looked at Skye, but the redhead had her eyes on the ground, refusing to meet her gaze. "But why? Did you want this, Skye?"

Skye pursed her lips but didn't answer.

Duke Crandall stepped forward. "Alright, I'm not going to sugarcoat the situation anymore, Your Highness. The… awful scar on her face hadn't healed and disappeared as we expected."

"We were concerned what the people at court might have to say about it," Lady Crandall added hastily. "I admit, it was rather hard to look at. We tried covering it with makeup but I'm afraid to say that doesn't really work."

Bea couldn't believe what she was hearing. They kept their own daughter-- their  _ only _ daughter-- hidden for days and were sending her away because they thought that that scar would damage their reputation?  _ Did they even know how Skye got that scar in the first place? Weren't they worried at all about what their daughter had been through after seeing that scar on her face? _

"I… don't think we're on the same page here," Bea looked at the two older Crandalls, not entirely sure how to react to everything they just said and was worried she might say something that was far across the line. "The person who gave it to her was awful, but that scar... Skye got that scar because she tried to save my life. And the fact that I'm still standing right here was because she managed to do it on her own."

The look of shock on their faces was evidence that they didn't know anything about that.

Bea continued when they didn't say anything. "There is absolutely no reason for her to leave just because you're ashamed of what people will say about your family."

"Your Highness, that's not--" 

"What my wife had been trying to say," Rodger cut his wife off, regarding Bea with a placating manner, "is that we didn't mean to make it sound like we were ashamed of our daughter. We could never be ashamed of Skye, despite our differences in her choice of clothes and habits."

Looking at Grace, Bea knew they were thinking the same thing, but they didn't show it on their faces. She was glad to see that Grace had learned how to keep her face blank and hide what she was truly thinking. And knowing Grace, whatever she was thinking right now might not be favorable to their tastes. 

A black sedan bearing the palace coat-of-arms stopped in front of them and the chauffeur stepped out. Bea turned to Skye but the girl couldn't seem to move. 

Bea sighed heavily, and when she spoke, it was to no one in particular. "Skye doesn't have to go. I assure you, if I ever hear anyone say a single word about her scar, that person is going to have to answer to me. She's my guest, and Skye is welcome to stay at  _ my _ court for as long as she wishes." 

Rodger Crandall opened his mouth and then closed it again without saying anything. Loretta just blinked at Bea. 

“Very well, Your Highness,” Rodger finally said, bowing politely. “Darling, let’s retire to our rooms to prepare for the council meeting this afternoon.”

The Duke and his wife swept away, leaving Skye, Grace, Bea, and all of Skye’s things on the path in front of the palace.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Skye managed, staring at Bea as if she were crazy. “If they don’t want me here, I should just go back home.”

“ _ I  _ want you here,” Bea said. “Do you want to be here?”

“...yes,” Skye answered hesitantly. “It’s nice to not be so… isolated.”

Bea nodded and grabbed the handle of one of Skye’s trunks. “It’s settled, then. Come on, let’s take this stuff back up to your room. Grace, do you mind helping?”

“Not at all,” Grace nodded, then gestured to Skye’s maids, who had been waiting at the front of the palace, possibly wanting to see the confrontation between the princess and the Duke and Duchess of Lakedon. “I think they’ll be happy to help, too.”

The maids ran to collect Skye’s things, leaving one small bag for the redhead to carry. They sped off to put the things back in Skye’s room, clearly ecstatic that their lady was back staying in the castle. Carrying a trunk and a backpack, Grace shot Bea a meaningful glance before heading off after them and leaving Bea and Skye alone. Bea didn’t understand what the look had meant, though, and was so distracted thinking about it that she hadn’t realized Skye had been talking.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“My scar, Bea. My parents are right. It’s hideous.”

Bea turned to face Skye. “It’s really not,” she said, her eyes tracking the scar as it made its way down Skye’s cheek to her jaw. “As I said, you got it saving my life. And I think it makes you look scary, but in a good way.”

Despite herself, Skye smiled. “Scary in a good way? You have to work on your compliments, Bea.”

Bea rolled her eyes playfully and grinned. Then, she grabbed Skye’s trunk and the two went back to set Skye’s room back up. 

  * ••



"Don't you have, like, a date or a suitor to bother?" Skye asked as they ran up the stairs to the fourth floor. "Where are we even going?"

"Questions, questions." Bea waved her off.

"You know, my parents were really upset that they didn't get to send me back home." 

Bea stopped at the landing to face Skye, her eyes settling on the long red mark on the side of the girl's cheek like an angry red root that weirdly matched her hair. She hadn't seen it properly since the attack, but now she noticed how jagged it was yet Bea didn't find it repulsive at all. 

It was the opposite. 

An interesting addition to the list of why she found Skye such an interesting person. Still, if Bea could take it back, she would wish Skye didn't get hurt during the attack, but the scar doesn't mean it ruined anything. If possible, it only proved to her that she was right about everything she saw on Skye.

She knew how mean the Crandalls had been to their only daughter all along, but to shame her just because of a scar was nothing short of cruel. They were willing to hide their own daughter away even before because of the way she dresses or wears her makeup. For them, the scar meant they could no longer push Skye into every promising eligible guy in the country, but for Bea, that scar meant everything. She wouldn't even be alive if not for the girl they were just about to send home and hide forever. 

"...what?" Skye asked.

Bea didn't even realize they had stopped halfway to the stairs leading to the fifth floor, and she had been staring at the girl's face for a few moments now. "Your scar."

"What about it?" The redhead smirked, but there was a tinge of worry in her tone. "Grossed out yet?"

"Me?" Bea raised her eyebrows. "Of course not. I was just wondering if it's fully healed yet."

"Well, it's only been a few days."

"Shouldn't you have covered it up with something to avoid infection?" Bea stepped closer, reaching up a hand to touch Skye's cheek gently and angled her face a little so she could see it better. "Hmmm...at least it's all dried up."

"Yeah." Skye gulped nervously. 

Bea moved her eyes from the scar to the pair of hesitant blue eyes staring at her only inches away. She beamed when she realized the redhead's cheeks were flushed, not breaking her gaze. "Why do you look so nervous?"

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Skye smiled a little.

"Ah, there it is. You have a very pretty smile." Bea dropped her hand and held on to Skye's arm, who was still dressed in her black hooded dress coat, and urged them both to move forward. She noticed Skye let out a deep breath before letting Bea drag her up another flight of stairs. "Come on, it's not that far."

Once they stepped to the top floor of the palace, Bea swerved to the right when they reached the sixth-floor foyer and beyond that was the place they called the Hall of Art where the palace's prized collection of artworks, sculptures, and paintings that the Royal family had collected for years were all displayed. 

"Whoa," Skye whispered as soon as they walked past the archway. Her eyes marveled at the scene in front of her. 

The top floor was painted on the edges with gold detailing, and the tall windows have glittering glass panels and stained glass on the upper part, making the room seem brighter even in the late afternoon. The sculptures and paintings, made by both Solarian and foreign artists, were lined up next to each window and were positioned directly beneath the crystal chandeliers above. 

Their great grandfather was such a fan of grandeur and great art that he had the sixth floor built just to showcase the power of their family and their billions worth of masterpieces, which was a shame since the sixth floor only opened once every New Year's Eve for the palace guests to enjoy and tour. The rest of the year, the entire floor was off-limits for anyone that wasn't part of the royal family, save for the cleaning staff.

Skye looked up at the domed ceiling, which was painted with heavenly scenery then to the glass windows overlooking the entire palace grounds. "And they say the Crandalls were megalomaniacs. No offense."

"None taken." Bea giggled, following the girl as they walked slowly down the hall. "Honestly, I think my great grandfather really did go all out. I always thought this was excessive."

"But impressive," Skye remarked. "If he built this place to impress people, it worked on me."

"Just don't tell the others, guests weren't exactly allowed on this floor." 

"Oh?" Skye raised an eyebrow. "Am I gonna get in trouble for being here?"

"Nah, you're with me. You're not exactly trespassing."

"You dragged me here." The girl reminded her.

"Well, yes." Bea laughed. "But this isn't what I was trying to show you."

She led the girl to the end of the hall, where a long mahogany table lined with cushioned mahogany chairs was set in the middle surrounded by floor to ceiling bookshelves. 

"I didn't know there was another library up here." Skye pointed out. 

"Great Grandpa thought it would look aesthetically pleasing for battle planning and all that." Bea waved at the table in a dismissing manner as she fumbled distractedly with an inconspicuous-looking bookshelf in the center of the wall. 

She felt Skye watching her weirdly, but Bea only smiled when she found the hidden button and the bookshelf slid inward, revealing a doorway. 

Skye's eyebrows raised and she shook her head. "I swear this palace has at least a hundred of those."

"Come on," Bea gestured for the girl to walk in and once they did, she closed the door behind them. "This used to be one of the secret saferooms, but my Dad decided to redesign it and call it his own hideout when he wanted to work on something."

"This is a workshop, Bea," Skye said, looking at the number of unfinished works lined up on the table. 

Equipment and tools were displayed on one wall, from cutting tools to wood carving, carpentry, and even electronic tools that were all polished and ready to use as if someone had just worked with them. In reality, the last time anyone had ever used these tools was a couple of weeks before her father died. 

"My Dad's workshop," Bea answered, but more like she was talking to herself. "It hasn't been used for more than two years."

"You're saying your father, the late King Alan, used to go here and work on something? On his own?"

"Mhm."

"My father had never touched a hammer his whole life," Skye told her. "Probably not ever."

"Not a lot of people know, but when he wasn’t ruling and doing politics, he loved to go here, build something." Bea walked over to the display table where she put her wooden music box a long time ago, on top of it was a miniature Ferris wheel that moves when the music starts playing. She turned the hand crank a few times and a familiar melody started, followed by the slow rotation of the Ferris wheel.

_ Bea was woken up when she heard the slight movement coming from her door. She could tell it was still dark, her night light had been turned off a while ago by her nanny when Bea finally fell asleep. The only light coming into her room was from the outdoor lamps on the balcony.  _

_ There was a tall person walking into her room. Bea couldn't see who it was so she watched quietly, hiding under her blankies and praying it was not a monster or the boogeyman her brother had been telling her about.  _

_ Bea caught a glimpse of the tall person's face when he passed the line of light coming from the outside and sighed in relief when she realized who it was. He was holding something wooden in front of him. _

_ "Daddy?" she called, sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. _

_ Her father froze, there was a surprised look on his face but he smiled at her. "Oh. Hey, tiger. You're not supposed to be awake at this hour." _

_ "I know, but I heard the door." _

_ He laughed and walked to her and sat beside her. He wasn't dressed in his fancy clothes, just a white shirt and his favorite pajamas given to him by their mommy. "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't know you'd wake up." _

_ "It's okay." Bea smiled and pointed at the thing he was carrying on his hands. "What is that?" _

_ "Here, watch this." Her Dad turned the metal thing on the side a few times and a song started playing. _

_ Bea couldn't help but clap and bounce a little on her bed when she recognized it was the same tune as her favorite song, the one their mommy would sing to her and Ian when they couldn't sleep. "That's Mom's song! How did you put it there?" _

_ "Well, it was a lot of work," he explained patiently. "And I asked Mommy to help me make the music thing inside." _

_ "That's really cool." Bea smiled, not really understanding much but she loved it anyway. "And what is that?" _

_ She pointed at the wooden wheel rotating upright on a pair of wooden stands. There were five tiny swing-like chairs on it with tiny people on each of them. The wheel was moving with the music.  _

_ "That is a Ferris wheel." _

_ "Fairies wheel?" she asked, amazed. _

_ " _ Ferris _ wheel." He corrected, laughing at how excited she was even when her six-year-old mind didn't understand anything. "Hundreds of years ago, there were these places all over the world called carnivals. People went there with their families and friends to have fun together. They would ride one of these," He touched one of the swings. "And a lot of other rides to choose from. There was popcorn and cotton candy too." _

_ "Cotton candies?" Bea asked again. She was trying to imagine what those might be and failed.  _

_ "They're like tiny clouds made of candy." _

_ "Wow." She took her eyes away from the music box and looked up at her Dad. "Can you take us to one of those carnivals?" _

_ "Aw, tiger," her Dad sighed sadly. "Most of the carnivals had been destroyed during the war, or just abandoned because people are scared to go out much anymore." _

_ Her bottom lip jutted out.  _

_ "Don't you love this?" he asked. _

_ "This was for me?" she blinked, her sadness momentarily forgotten.  _

_ "I was supposed to just leave it over there," he pointed to her dresser. "So you can see it when you wake up tomorrow." _

_ "But I like it better that I woke up." she insisted. "Did you make this, Daddy?" _

_ "I did." her Dad smiled. "I wanted you and your brother to have something special for your birthdays." _

_ "This is special."  _

_ "You love it?"  _

_ "I do! I do!" She reached up and wrapped her short skinny arms around his neck. "I love it. The best birthday gift ever." _

_ "You haven't seen what mommy and Leon got for you." _

_ "It's still special though." _

_ "I'm glad you think so, honey." He pressed a kiss on her forehead. _

_ "Can you build a big one for my next birthday? So we can take Mommy and Leon and Ian on a spin too?" _

_ Her Dad laughed out loud. "That might not be as easy. Maybe on your eighteenth birthday?" _

_ Bea kicked at her blankies. "That will be years from now. I'll be too old! You'll be too old! You're the King, Daddy, you can tell people to do it!" _

_ "Shhhh!" he whispered. "You'll wake your nanny. Besides, being king doesn't mean I should order people around the way I want to. Being a ruler means I serve my people the same way they are serving me."  _

_ "I don't know how that works!" She pressed her palms together and gave her dad a pleading pout. "But can I please, please, please, please have a big Fairies Wheel someday?" _

_ "We'll see, okay?" He set the wooden toy on top of the dresser and climbed up on the bed. "Let's get you back to sleep, Bea-bear. Do you wanna get too sleepy and tired for your birthday party tomorrow?" _

_ Bea shook her head and let him tuck her in under her blankies. "No. I wanna show Danielle I have a cooler birthday party than she did." _

_ "You will." He promised. "Now close your eyes, I'll be here till you fall asleep then it's bedtime for me too." _

_ "'Night, Daddy." She mumbled groggily. _

_ "Good night, tiger."  _

_ She felt a kiss on her forehead before she completely fell asleep _ . 

"Bea?" 

She blinked her eyes, which had gotten a bit watery as the memory faded to the back of her mind upon hearing Skye calling her name. "Yeah?"

"I was asking if you know how to use any of these." Skye repeated. 

"Not really." She replied, shaking her head as she subtly wiped her eyes. "I paint, but not as talented on sculpture or carpentry as Dad."

Skye didn't say anything, but Bea heard her moving around the workshop. A few moments later, Bea felt the girl reaching for her hand, which was absentmindedly tapping along the table with the music box song, and took it in hers. "Are you okay? I kind of lost you for a minute there."

"Yeah, I'm...I'm good." She nodded, smiling sadly as she looked from the wooden Ferris Wheel to Skye. "I just couldn't help but think about Dad when I'm in here."

"I'm sorry." Skye squeezed her hand. "I can't even begin to understand how you miss them."

"So m-much." Her voice quivered at the last word and she couldn't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks this time. "Especially these days, more than ever. I wish I still had them to tell me what to do, you know? Like teach me how to be half as good as them for the crown? How can I be a good Queen for my people, Skye?"

Skye didn't say anything at first, but the girl used their hands to pull her close, letting her cry on the shoulder of her coat. "The fact that you were worrying about this already tells me you'll be the great Queen they have been waiting for."

“I worry about it constantly, so that means I’ll be the best Queen in the world?” Bea asked, trying to joke. The effect was dampened somewhat when she reached up to wipe away her tears, but Skye still gave her a smile for the effort.

“Something like that, yeah. Imagine if you never worried. It would mean you didn’t care, and caring is the first step to being a good leader. Trust me on that, I know it doesn’t say that in the how-to-be-a-monarch textbooks. But it matters more than you know.”

Bea sniffed and showed a watery smile. “I know you’re joking about the textbooks, but I have one that’s eerily similar to what you just described.”

“That’s terrifying,” Skye said. “And here I thought you just had to balance books on your head.”

Bea shook her head. “It’s so much work. Too much for one person. I don’t know how I’m going to manage it all.”

Skye sighed and squeezed Bea’s hand. “You don’t. That’s the secret.”

“I don’t?”

“You don’t. You delegate to your advisors and your assistants. You prioritize, and sometimes you have to leave things unfinished. But that’s okay, it happens to every leader. And then at the end of the day, you go back to your rooms and you’ll have one of those guys out there who loves you more than anything in the world, and he’ll make you feel normal again. Rinse and repeat.”

“That’s… surprisingly romantic, coming from you,” Bea remarked, turning to face Skye. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

Skye held Bea’s gaze for a second, then looked away, going back to observing the late king’s creations. 

“Well, I’m full of surprises,” she said. “But for real, that’s what a partner is for. You think my parents would even be a fraction as evil as they are without having each other?”

“You realize that makes me never want to get married,” Bea said, wrinkling her nose and making Skye giggle. “But I get what you mean. Greg and Rita told me how all the country’s troubles didn’t seem so impossible to my dad when he had my mom at his side.”

_ I think I feel like that right now, _ Bea thought. Skye was turning out to be a much better friend than she had initially thought when she’d learned the redhead was a Crandall. First saving Bea’s life, and now easing her stress. It seemed like there was nothing the girl couldn’t do.

***

"And there were these twins," Bea said as they walked leisurely. "They were identical princesses, and Ian was so confused."

Rory couldn't help but laugh as well, Bea had been giggling as she recalled the story from a year ago with her brother when their fellow royals from all over Europe came over for an event. Her hand was holding onto his arm, her other was gesturing around as she talked and Rory was hanging on to every word she had been telling her with that stupidly handsome smile on his face. 

They weren't on a date, she just happened to pass him by a corridor on the first floor after breakfast and she was actually heading to the Women's Room to do some studying. Rory offered to walk her on the way, which she was more than happy to accept.

"Was he able to tell which one was which?" He asked.

"Well, Ian bowed to this princess in a blue gown. He was like, 'Princess Catarina, how lovely to see you again.'" Bea continued, trying to imitate her brother's voice. "And this princess in a purple gown looked appalled, saying 'That's Princess Denise, I am Catarina!'"

Rory chuckled at that. "Man, that must be very confusing."

"It was. You should have seen Ian's face when the two princesses started arguing."

"Did you ever find out who's really who?"

"Turns out, Ian was right, and they were just messing with him." Bea shrugged. 

She could see the door to the Women's Room ahead but she was hoping to have more time with him. With all the Selection schedules and dates that she had to go through, her grandfather had been piling up more and more paperwork on her and some pointers that she had to study. 

Lately, Bea had been tackling lessons on Military strategies and how to handle an army because once she is crowned, she will be the highest-ranking commanding officer for the army. With or without experience on an actual battlefield, she needed to learn how to manage and strategize if a war suddenly fell on her hands during her reign. 

So yes, all these tiny moments of comfort with the people she could truly be comfortable with felt priceless for her. 

Rory reached out for her hand and squeezed it, distracting her from her thoughts. "You okay?"

"Mhm?" She looked up at him. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about that."

"Well, I guess this is as far as I can take you." Rory turned to face her, kissing the back of her hand.

"Thanks for walking me all the way here, Rory." Bea smiled, squeezing his hand this time.

"It's my pleasure." The guy bowed and gave her a charming wink before walking back to where they came from.

Bea gestured for the maid behind them to put her books and papers on her table inside the Women's Room while she watched Rory until he disappeared down the stairs.

"That one was really sweet." A voice spoke from the doorway. She glanced at the speaker and noticed Payton beaming at her from the doorway. 

"Lady Payton." Bea returned the smile. 

"I'm always right about men, you know." The lady added. "I wasn't wrong about Frank."

"No, you're not." Bea agreed, stepping into the room with Payton. "I see you two are really happy." 

The other ladies in the room paused their conversations for a moment to curtsy upon seeing her and Bea dipped her head to acknowledge them. She and Payton headed to the table where the maid had put her study materials. 

"How's the wedding preparations coming?" She asked. "I apologize if I didn't get to talk to you sooner. I'm really glad you weren't hurt during the attack."

"Me? Pfft." Payton scoffed good-naturedly. "I wasn't worried about getting hurt. I know how good Frank is in his job and I trust him that he can protect all of us. I was more worried about his safety."

"You and me both."

"And our wedding preparations had been postponed for now." The lady said, reaching for a teacup as another maid came over with a teapot. "We decided to hold it off until the Selection and your coronation had been dealt with."

_ Ah, yes. My Coronation _ . Bea thought. With all the issues brought along by the Selection, she almost forgot that her birthday will be coming within months. The day that she will finally be old enough to take the crown for herself. The coronation of the new monarch was usually held on the same day as the heir's date of birth on cases such as her when the former King had long died. 

"I'm really sorry about that." Bea sighed. "I didn't know you canceled it."

"It's fine, Bea," Payton said, and she knew the girl meant it. Payton had been one of the real ones among the nobles living at court, someone she could talk to without worrying about gossip and any of her words spilling somewhere else. "Besides, we've already agreed on the basic decisions we have like the theme, the setting, the food… Frank and I surprisingly have the same tastes."

"You are so meant for each other. Well, I hope I'm still going to be invited to the Wedding of the Year." She joked.

"Are you kidding?" The older girl giggled. "You are  _ the _ guests of honor."

"I wouldn't miss your wedding." Bea sighed happily. "You two and my parents have love stories that made me kind of hopeful that I'll have that too someday."

"You will. Especially after what I saw earlier? Definitely." Payton assured her. "Lady Myra and I saw you dancing with the suitors during the ball and she managed to deduce which ones you had great chemistry with and which aren't. You know how she can be about couples."

"Which is ironic." Bea laughed. "I've never seen Lady Myra ever dating anyone."

"She's more than happy playing matchmaker here at court. She was mostly right about her matching."

" _ Mostly _ right."

The two of them giggled. Remembering all the couples at court that Myra had managed to put together. Most of the ladies kept to their own groups. When they leave, they would approach their table to say hello and curtsy at Bea. The ones she usually talked to when she came to the Women's Room weren't around, save for Payton. 

"So what's this?" Payton nodded to her books. "Homework?"

"Sadly, yes." Bea nodded. She almost forgot she was supposed to be studying. "My grandfather had been handing them over non-stop."

"On top of all the Selection thing?" Payton grimaced. "Damn."

"Agreed."

"Alright, Bea. Do your study and I'll be here just reading my magazines if you don't mind having me around."

"Not at all."

Bea took a sip from her teacup and she proceeded to the tasks at hand. She went to her books, highlighting the lines that she thinks we're important, and wrote some notes about some of the clauses on the Trade Agreements with Denmark. 

She was halfway through her second cup when Maria barged into the room and from the look on her face, Bea knew she had come bearing bad news. 

Maria curtsied once she was close enough and spoke in a quiet voice so she won't alert the other ladies. "We have a situation, Your Highness."

Bea exchanged glances with Payton, who was equally surprised. Without another word, the two ladies helped her with the papers. Bea excused herself from the other ladies and told them to have a good afternoon before she followed Maria out of the Women's Room. 

"What's wrong, Maria?" She asked as they speed-walked. 

"The King Father had been looking for you. Something… happened with one of the suitors."

Bea stopped walking. "Who? What happened? Is anyone hurt?"

"No one's hurt, yet." Maria sighed heavily, as if she was dreading to tell her about it. "Lucas… was arrested just a few minutes ago."

"Arrested?" She demanded. Bea tried to repeat the sentence in her head over and over and it still doesn't make any sense.  _ Lucas was arrested? _ "What-- How?"

"I might as well tell you before we enter the board room." The older girl said urgently. "I didn't see the whole thing, when I got there, they were already dragging him away to the dungeons. The advisors are currently on a standstill as to what to do about it. They were waiting for you."

"But for what grounds?" Bea asked, getting impatient. Lucas? Brainiac, over-achieving Lucas? What did he possibly do that deserved to be dragged all the way to dungeons? Steal a bunch of highlighters? No, no, no…

"He was caught stealing unprescribed pills from the infirmary."

"Pills? That doesn't make it any clearer."

"Adderall."

Bea stopped pacing.  _ Adderall _ . Lucas was caught stealing Adderall from the infirmary. She played the words in her head once more. 

Pure shock ran through her. Lucas was so smart, so put together… maybe a little over-enthusiastic, but nothing like  _ this _ . Bea didn’t doubt Maria’s words, but it was hard to believe that Lucas could do something like that.

“Take me to see him,” she said to Maria. “I don’t want to talk to any advisors until I see him”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Bea tried to sort through anything she was planning to say on the long trek to the dungeons, but once she saw Lucas’ face, twisted with guilt, she lost all of her words. She motioned for the guards and Maria to leave, and she sat in the entrance to Lucas’ cell.

She had no words. There was nothing she could say, still processing the shock of everything.

“Bea,” Lucas said in a pained voice. He didn’t even try to reach for her, he didn’t sound desperate. He just sounded sad, like he knew he’d been defeated.

“Lucas,” Bea replied. “Lucas… why? Why did you do it?”

“They help me focus,” he explained. “It was hard, being a four, trying to catch up with all this new history and the etiquette and the stress of the attack… I wasn’t sleeping. I just needed to work.”

“Lucas,” Bea repeated, her voice breaking. She reached out to him, and he took her hand like it was a lifeline.

“I know.”

“I can’t… I should’ve… I should’ve known it would be hard on you guys,” she stuttered, tears brimming in her eyes. “This is my life, so I didn’t think… but you, Dan, all the others…”

“I wanted this,” Lucas said. “I wanted it so bad. I would’ve done anything, just so I could impress you with how fast I learned, with how hard I worked. I could’ve made my family and my province proud, and now…”

“Now you’ve shamed them,” Bea said, without thinking. Lucas’ face dropped, but he nodded along with her words.

“I have,” he said. “I don’t know how I’ll make up for this. I’ve always been the weak one, the one who had to work so much harder for things that others just get. The attack… Bea, I’m sorry, but as much as I like you, I can’t spend my life like that.”

A single tear spilled down Bea’s cheek at Lucas’ broken words. She squeezed his hand and shook her head, trying to get back on topic. She wasn’t an emotional high school girl, she was the Crown Princess. Time to act like it. 

“I understand,” she said. “But we have to get through this first. You took the drugs so you could learn faster? Or work harder?”

“Yeah,” Lucas nodded slowly. “I couldn’t focus or sleep after the attack, so I took the drugs so I could keep studying. I was falling behind all the Twos and Threes, and I knew I had no chance of winning if I couldn’t prove that I was on their level.”

Bea’s heart broke at those words. She had never known the stress that some of the guys had been under, especially since the attack. She needed to say something to all of them. Life as the Prince Consort would be brutal, yes, but did these young men deserve to be tortured in their first months at the palace? She’d already had many of them beg her to send them home. Was it even worth it, to keep them all here if it meant putting their lives and health in danger?

“I have to go talk to the Council now,” she said. “They’ll want to sentence you. I’ll do everything I can, please trust me.”

“I do,” Lucas replied, a sad smile forming on his lips. “I did wrong, and I deserve to be punished.”

“You deserve help,” Bea insisted. “We’ll get you help for the trauma, for the pills, for the stress. I’ll get you the best therapist in the country if I have to go find them myself.”

“Generous,” Lucas said. “Generous and benevolent. You’ve been through so much… your life… and you can still have sympathy for a dirty thief.”

“Don’t say that,” Bea said, cupping his cheek in her free hand. “Please.”

She pressed a light kiss to his cheek, and despite everything, it still made her want to smile. Then she stood, releasing him from her hold.

“I’ll see you later. I’ve got… a lot to do.”

***

Trying to escape everything and not wanting to talk to anyone, Bea headed straight for the library. It had been her refuge before, and she hoped it would distract her. The Council meeting had been horrible, much worse than she’d naïvely expected. 

The advisors had wanted him locked away for years, one even wanted him put to death for the crime of treason against the Royal Family. If it weren’t for the reminder of Lucas’ wretched face in the damp dungeon cell, she might’ve stayed out of the entire discussion. But she spoke up for him. She owed him that.

In the end, the group had reached a compromise. The idea of punishing Lucas still made Bea sick, but hopefully it would appease the advisors. She didn’t want Lucas to suffer for something that was mostly her fault.

She’d pushed the guys too far, she saw that now. It was unfair to expect anyone to come into this life with no adjustment period. Living under daily death threats and still memorizing the order of forks and the history of countries long fallen? It was ridiculous.

While Bea wasn’t entirely happy, she knew that Lucas’ sentencing was the next morning, and she forced herself to put it out of her mind until then. There was nothing else she could do for him. In the eyes of Solarian law, he was a thief. Any thief served time in jail or a public caning, and since he had stolen Royal property, he would be in for much worse.

Absently, Bea walked along the bookshelves, running her fingers along the old cloth-bound spines. Her footsteps made no noise on the plush carpet, the hem of her dress swishing silently around her ankles. She just wanted to lose herself in the endless stacks, getting stuck in a maze with no exit. 

A figure interrupted her meditation, sitting in an armchair back in the furthest reaches of the stacks. Tea sat untouched on the side table as well as a book open to a page of geometric diagrams. 

Ajay wasn’t focusing on either of those, though. His attention was all on one tiny pin, the pin that he’d been so confused by back in the hospital.

Bea’s hand slipped against the shelves, causing a quiet noise that rang out like a shout in the silent library. Ajay startled and looked up, his expression wary but spreading into a smile when he saw it was her.

“Bea,” he greeted her. “What brings you here?”

“I’m here to forget,” she confessed. “My brain is too full, and I needed somewhere quiet to just… distract myself. Maybe in a nice mystery, or some fantasy realm.”

Ajay raised an eyebrow. “I won’t ask what’s going on, but I hope your mental tempest resolves itself soon,” he said. “Have I stolen your hiding spot?”

“A little,” Bea admitted. “But it’s okay, we can share it.”

Ajay stood up quickly to fetch another chair, placing it so Bea could sit comfortably. He poured her a mug of tea.

“Courtesy of your lady’s maid, of course,” he grinned. 

“She’s the best,” Bea agreed. “A good friend, when things get tough.”

“It’s nice to have someone like that,” Ajay hummed. “So, you said you wanted a distraction?”

“I do. Do you have something in mind?”

“Nothing exciting, but…” he held up the pin that he’d been examining. “I can’t seem to get my mind off this thing. Once you told me it was real gold and diamonds, I’ve been wondering who would lose such a precious thing and not be worried sick about getting it back?”

Bea held out her hand, and Ajay dropped the pin into her palm.

“Maybe the owner thought it got destroyed or lost during the attack,” she said. “It could easily belong to one of the court ladies, or Amber and her ladies.”

“Maybe,” Ajay said, though he looked doubtful. “There’s an engraving on the inside, though. I can’t quite make it out, it’s pretty worn down.”

“Who would go to the trouble of engraving a hairpin?” Bea wondered aloud. “And who would even wear one of these? Why not keep it safe in a lockbox or a vault? Anyone who owns something as frivolous as a solid gold hairpin has to have a family vault.”

“Someone who wanted to impress the King Father?” Ajay guessed. “Or maybe… do you think it might be an heirloom?”

Bea’s eyes widened. Heirlooms were very rare, and typically something only the very rich owned. When the former United States of America had fallen, the civil wars and destruction that filled the void had destroyed almost everything worth preserving. Art, jewels, clothing, even simple handmade tools and decorations. As the Royal Families, the Solaris and Everharts owned quite a few heirlooms passed down from the founding of Solari. But they were kept strictly under lock and key, round-the-clock guard. 

She knew of a few nobles whose families had an heirloom, but remnants of the past were rather than any other commodity these days.

“If this is an heirloom, I’m surprised the owner isn’t tearing the castle apart trying to get it back,” Bea said. "It probably isn’t one… but there is a way we can check.”

“The heirloom database,” Ajay realized. Bea nodded. All heirlooms were carefully kept track of, as they were normally passed down from mother to daughter, from father to son. The amount of them that were lost grew every year, but around a thousand families had registered their heirlooms, and those lists were kept in a database. It was loaded on a computer, and Bea was one of the only people in the country to have access to it.

“Follow me,” she told Ajay, setting down her tea and taking his arm. She led them over to a door hidden between two shelves, hidden in plain sight. A key unlocked it, the only other copy of the key was with her grandfather. Her own key used to belong to Leon, as only the heir to the throne was given the privilege of access to the data room. Upon his death, it was given to her, and she treated it as an heirloom in its own right.

The database room was small and dark, lit by only a single fluorescent light. When the doors shut behind them, all Bea or Ajay could hear were their footfalls on the concrete or the light buzzing. A computer sat innocently in the middle of the room, carefully blinking to life as though it didn’t hold the country’s most precious secrets.

In the sharper light, the diamonds on the pin sparkled stunningly. Ajay turned the pin over, staring at the tiny engraving.

“Can you read it?” Bea asked, trying to remember her passcode to access the database. She typed something in. It didn’t work.

“...I think there’s an L?” Ajay had taken off his glasses and clipped them to his shirt, trying to read the engraving from as close as possible. “Yeah, the first letter’s an L.”

“Okay,” Bea said, silently cheering in triumph when the third passcode she entered unlocked the database. She typed “gold”, “diamond”, “pin”, and, thanks to Ajay, “L” into the search bar.

Nothing.

“There isn’t anything showing up,” Bea frowned. 

“Really?” Ajay asked, trying to look at the screen before Bea shooed him away. “I could have sworn… it’s got to be something valuable.”

“You even had me convinced,” Bea nodded, clicking random boxes to try to widen the search. “Hold on, I’m trying more searches.”

She frowned as a single result loaded onto the screen. It wasn’t one she had expected to see.

**_LOST_ ** , the line proclaimed in red letters. Golden hairpin, diamond decoration. Engraved with the family name. Last known owner: Hera Lee.

She repeated the information to Ajay, who frowned. “Lee? That sounds like a familiar name. Wait, hold on.”

He paced back and forth, thinking, while Bea double-clicked the entry to see if there were any more details.

“Hera Lee died ten years ago, according to this,” Bea said. “It was presumably passed to her husband, but he never registered the change.”

“Interesting,” Ajay said. “I can’t remember why, but the name is familiar.”

“Do you think that’s what the engraving on the pin is? Lee?”

“Probably, if this is the right pin,” Ajay replied. “I just wonder how a lost heirloom got in the palace.” He looked a little stressed trying to figure the tiny pin out.

“Well, we’re one step closer to figuring that out,” Bea said, placing a hand over his. He startled but took her hand, looking over at her in a similar way to how he had when he’d first arrived at the palace. A stare that was calculating, intense.

“I need to find who this belongs to,” Ajay said quietly, after a few moments of silence. “If it was near me when the guards found me after the attack, if I wouldn’t let go of it while I was unconscious…”

Bea leaned closer. “What? I thought you didn’t remember what happened.”

“I don’t, I don’t. But I somehow got from the Great Room all the way into the hallway, tucked into some hiding spot that I didn’t even know existed. I think someone helped me, and this must belong to them.”

“So you need to find them so you can thank them,” Bea realized. “I see.”

“Whoever it was may have saved my life,” Ajay said. “They deserve my thanks and their priceless heirloom back, at the very least.”

Bea nodded. “I promise, I’ll help you find them. I’ll do everything I can. If they saved your life, they deserve my thanks as well.”

“Do you really mean that?” Ajay asked.

“Of course. You’re important to me.”

A soft smile graced his face. “That means a lot to me. You’re… you’re really something different, Bea. Not what I expected a Princess to be like.”

“Is that a good thing?” Bea flirted, testing the waters by moving even closer to him. She could see his eyes, which were even more stunning up close.

His eyes flicked down to her lips, and before Bea could lose her nerve, she gave a tiny nod, closing her eyes. She felt his hand on her chin, drawing her face to his, and then felt his soft lips on hers. 

Kissing Ajay wasn’t like kissing Rory. Rory had felt comforting and protective, wrapping his arms around her when they kissed, making her feel safe. Ajay’s soft hands cupping her face seemed more insistent, and it took her breath away. 

Bea’s arms wrapped around Ajay’s neck, pulling him in closer. When they separated, Bea immediately flushed when she saw that Ajay’s eyes were on her. He just smiled, that same soft smile that he’d had before, and then the pair turned back to the database.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhh plot twist


	10. As Brave as the Tiger

The Palace was bustling with activities the next afternoon, the staff were doing last-minute chores and preparation for what was coming up.

It was exactly like the day of her Grandfather's birthday, or the time the suitors arrived. The palace was restless, anxious. 

But today, it was different.

There was nothing to look forward to, nothing to be excited about. Nothing to celebrate.

Bea walked down the stairs in the Great Room in her long black dress suit, flanked by Ian and the King Father in their dark suits, and five guards behind them. They marched down the stairs and out of the Palace to the gates, which were wide open for the first time in years, and from the distance, she could see the large platform the engineers had set up just overnight and the hundreds of spectators waiting for their arrival. 

With their pace, they reached the makeshift stadium within minutes and was met by a deafening roar of cheer from the people on the stands. 

_ This is so wrong _ , Bea felt her heart sinking further.  _ They shouldn't cheer, this isn't something to be happy about _ …

On the stands closest to the one reserved for the royal family, she could see the Crandalls, the Saunders, the Khandaars, and the other members of the advisory board and high-ranking nobles.

They all looked down from their places upon seeing them, and the majority air on that one section of the stands was anxiety. Rumors had traveled fast among the nobles and they must have all heard about what happened by now. There was a subtle hint of confusion, too, and she figured it was coming from the line of suitors waiting restlessly just below them. 

Bea realized they weren't aware of what happened. Lucas' arrest was kept under confidentiality and the witnesses, mostly servants and a couple of nobles that happened to be on the scene, were asked not to say anything until the board came up with a decision and a sentence. 

They stared at her with their questioning gazes, all thirteen of them, and Bea couldn't meet their eyes. Not when she was about to put one of them on a sentence. 

She was glad to have Grace fix her up that morning. She didn't get any sleep, she just couldn't, so when the morning came, her face looked so tired that even Grace heaved a deep sigh when she came to her room to prepare her for the event.

As soon as she left the safety of her bedroom, Bea knew she had to keep her expression in check. She couldn't show remorse or guilt, or how she was dreading what was coming. So she had to keep her expression unreadable and guarded.

On their way up to their spot, Rory managed to catch her eye and there was an obvious question there.

"Bea!" He called, his eyes shifting from her and to the makeshift stage in the middle of the stadium. "What's going on?"

She didn't get to answer even if she wanted to, her grandfather put a hand on her shoulder and urged her to move forward.

Bea sighed heavily and moved, taking their places on the gilded thrones set up on a balcony in the middle part of the stands. She sat in the center throne, Ian on her left, and her Grandfather sat on the right with that same look on his face like this was all normal. 

_ Nothing about this is normal _ .

She looked down the rows of stands below them and to the stage where an odd-looking metal structure had been waiting ominously in the middle. She couldn't blame Rory for freaking out after seeing that. A memory surfaced in her mind, of a little girl from a long time ago…

_ She was supposed to be on her seat, the people were waiting for them to start but Bea doesn't want to leave her mommy's lap no matter what their Dad says.  _

_ "I wanna go home, Mommy," she sniffled, her face buried on her mother's chest as she cried. "I wanna go home, I don't want to see that." _

_ "We will be home soon, honey," Queen Faith rubbed her back soothingly. Bea could feel kisses on top of her head as her mommy held her close. "But we have to be here, it is our job." _

_ "Why is it our job to hurt those men?" She asked, tearful eyes looking up at the beautiful face of their mother. "Daddy shouldn't hurt those men. It's bad, Mommy." _

_ "No, he shouldn't. But those men hurt people, honey," Her Mommy said softly. "They hurt good people and Daddy had to punish them for that. Do you want them to keep hurting other people?" _

_ Bea shook her head, rubbing the tears from her eyes. "But I don't wanna see it." _

_ A shadow came over and Bea felt someone put a hand on her back. Turning around, her older brother Leon gave her a sad smile. "I don't wanna see it too." _

_ "You don't?"  _

_ Leon shook his head, looking down and sighing heavily. "But if I want to keep my people safe from dangerous and bad men someday, I have to be brave enough to protect them like Dad was doing." _

_ Bea looked up from their mommy and saw she was smiling at Leon's words. "He was right, honey." _

_ "Dad doesn't want to hurt people, but he's the King, and the law is his weapon in protecting our people. In protecting us." Leon added. "If you will be Queen someday, don't you want your people to be safe?" _

_ "I want everyone safe." She agreed. "But I'll be a princess forever, not a Queen." _

_ "Still, I know you will be brave for these people just the same." Leon gestured his hand to the crowd. "Remember what Daddy always says?" _

_ "As brave as the tiger."  _

_ "As brave as the tiger," Leon repeated, offering his hand. "Now, come. You can take my seat so you will be sitting between me and mommy." _

_ "But that's your seat. They say that chair is for the future king. You're the future King, Leon." _

_ Leon tilted his head, thinking. "That doesn't mean you can't too." _

_ Bea took his hand and climbed the seat meant for the heir to the throne, holding Leon's hand in one of hers and the other was holding their Mommy's and for the first time, Bea looked down on the stage where the three angry-looking men were being tied by the guards. _

The memory was cut off when the joyful uproar from the crowd suddenly turned into shouts and cries of contempt. Bea followed their stares and her stomach sunk. 

Half a dozen guards were marching into the stadium, the two guards leading the procession were holding a long heavy chain connected to the shackles on Lucas' hands, dragging him forward. 

Bea's heart broke at the scene in front of them. This wasn't the same Lucas she met, the one who was always dressed smart and impeccable, the Lucas who was always so confident and his chin held high. 

The Lucas being dragged to the stage was different. His back was hunched, his clothes were grubby, tattered and he was walking barefoot, his hair was greasy and sticking out as if he spent the night pulling at it and his face… even from the distance, Bea could see his busted lips and the bruises on his eyebrows.  _ My god… What did they do to him? _

Despite the sun blazing over their head, Lucas was shivering from head to toe. He was glistening in sweat too and he kept squinting his eyes as if the brightness was too much for him.

Lucas was never a bad man, not like those people their Dad used to punish in the name of the law. 

One of the officers, wearing a red mask to hide his identity, stood on the side while the others tied Lucas on the structure in the middle of the stage. The crowd hushed, they had seen enough executions and trials that they knew how to respond to these situations. The same conclusion dawned on Rory's face and he was looking at her in panic. 

"Lucas Thomas," The officer called, gesturing his arm to the guy was grunting in pain as the guards forcefully tied his arms and legs on the structure. Someone had ripped the back of Lucas' shirt too, exposing his back. "One of the Selected Suitors, once an honored son of Solari, had been caught stealing unprescribed medication for recreational purposes."

The crowd booed. Bea sickening lurch in her stomach came back, a feeling she expected so she didn't ask Grace for breakfast no matter how hungry she was. These people didn't even know what happened, they didn't know his reasons and they were happily cheering for his punishment.

"An offense that not only revoked his rights to compete for the hand of the future Queen but is also punishable by exile." The officer paused dramatically to let the crowd react. "But in her grace and mercy, our princess spared him from the life of exile despite this treasonous act. Long live the princess!"

A deafening roar, hundreds of people chanting after him, praising her. Bea had never been so uncomfortable in her life. She knew her people adored her, she was grateful for that but this was not something she wanted them to rejoice her name about. Bea tuned all them all out, she couldn't help but focus on the anguished look on Lucas' face.

A few steps beneath them, the suitors were given front row seats, something her grandfather had ordered to show them what would happen if any of them decided to take the law for granted and step out of the line. Some of the suitors looked terrified, and the rest who refused to show how freaked out they were just stood there anxiously hoping for it to be over.

"Mr. Thomas," the Officer turned to face Lucas. "By the order of His Majesty the King Father and the approval of Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Beatrice, you are hereby sentenced to public whipping consisting of twenty strikes."

Another officer came to the stage holding a long whip in his hand, flicking it in the air to test it out and Bea noticed that Clint and another boy flinched at the sound produced by the whip. 

Ian leaned over to her seat and whispered, "I wish I didn't eat breakfast."

Bea let her guard down a second to give her brother a sympathetic glance. "Remember what Dad used to tell us? We have to face these situations…"

"As brave as the tiger." 

"Yeah."

They exchanged a look then went back to the scene before them. 

"One!" The first officer ordered. 

The whip made contact on Lucas' back, leaving a long red mark behind as he gritted his teeth to stop himself from crying out. Ian sat back on his chair, wincing.

"Two!"

The suitors flinched whenever the whip hit Lucas. At the end of their line, Brian was the only one who was watching the whole thing with focus and mild fascination. 

"Three!"

Bea swallowed the growing lump in her throat. Tears were threatening to spill soon but she was controlling her breathing to stop herself from freaking out right there. 

Four strikes became five, then six, seven, eight… and soon, the nineteenth strike came. At this point, his back was covered in angry and bloody red marks all over. The back of his pants was stained red from the blood dripping from the open wounds and the torn skin and Lucas was practically passed out on the structure he was tied to.

"Twenty!" The officer concluded. The blooded whip was tossed aside as the officer spoke a small reminder to anyone who tried to do the same Lucas did and dismissed everyone.

At first, no one moved, then little by little, the people from the stands started descending the stairs and back to the city. The King Father left his seat and marched back to the Palace without saying anything, the advisors and the rest of the nobles followed right behind him. The suitors weren't far behind, as if they couldn't wait to leave the stadium and forget what they just witnessed.

Bea and Ian stayed behind, walking down the stands slowly and he was right behind her as she made her way close to the stage where Frank and Maria were watching the guards untied Lucas from his binds. 

"You know the plan," Bea spoke. "Please make sure his wounds get cleaned and sanitized before they transport him back to Belcourt."

Maria sighed. "It will take some time before his back heals. I don't even want to think about the emotional scars that this will leave behind. He was already in a bad state before the whipping."

"We made all the necessary actions to make sure he'll recover from this. Maria, contact the facility and tell them to expect Lucas in a few days." Bea said. "Explain to them that his back needs some treatment too and make sure the press or my grandfather won't get word about this."

"Will do, Your Highness." 

Two servants came to the stage, carefully loaded Lucas on the stretcher that they carried down the stairs and in front of her. 

Lucas was passed out. Bea ran a hand on his damped face, biting her lip to stop the sob from bubbling over. She brought this to him, she brought this to all of them. At this point, she just preferred it this way so he wouldn't suffer through the painful process as the servants and a nurse she secretly summoned earlier would clean his wounds. 

"Bea," Frank looked at her. "You did everything you could. At the end of all this, he'll still be able to go back home to his family. You saved him from the exile, and you made sure he'll be taken care of until he recovers. Don't beat yourself up for this."

She nodded.

Maria hesitantly reached out and put a hand to her shoulder, giving her an assuring squeeze before she urged them to head back to the gates. 

The walk back was excruciatingly long. They could hear Maria talking on one of the palace phones not far behind. She was making arrangements for his transport and medical care. 

"Do you want to, I don't know, take the day off or something?" Ian asked gently. "I can talk to grandfather about--"

"No," Bea said firmly. "I have work to do. I need to do something to keep my mind from thinking about that."

Her brother looked at her as if he wanted to ask if she was sure about that but he must have decided against it and went silent. They stayed that way until they reached the Great Hall. Maria excused herself and said she will be in her office if anyone would need anything. Bea barely heard any of her words, she was just focusing on her steps, shutting off everything around her.

"Bea?" A familiar voice called out. "Bea!"

She and Ian stopped in their tracks to face Rory and Ajay, who must have been waiting for them to come back.

Rory looked shaken, while Ajay had a more controlled look on his face.

She sighed, refusing to meet their eyes. "Not now, Rory."

"What did he do?"

"Please, I don't want to talk about this."

"What, we're just supposed to watch one of us get hit twenty times without us knowing what really happened? No questions asked?"

"Careful in questioning my judgment, Rory. We may be friends, but I'm still going to be your Queen. It doesn't concern you, so please, drop this."

The guy stepped forward to press more but Ajay put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Let her be," Ajay whispered. 

Ian gave Ajay a grateful look and patted Rory on the back. “I’ll talk to him,” he said to Bea. “You go on.”

Bea let out an exasperated breath, and then practically fled up the stairs, running all the way up to the sixth floor. It was the only place that she could be alone.

The art didn’t bring her much comfort. After what Skye had said about the art representing power, just looking at the blatant display of Royal superiority made Bea even sicker to her stomach. She turned away from the beautiful oil paintings, the sculptures of clay right next to the ones of glass and iron, towards the ornate piano sitting at the end of the hall.

It was technically part of the exhibit: a work of art itself. A beautiful piano hand-crafted specifically for her great grandfather’s taste, made of dark wood with swirly patterns drawn in it, ivory keys that always felt cool to the touch regardless of the room’s temperature, and gilded pedals. Bea propped the lid up and sat on the velvet cushion on the bench, preferring the sound to the one the piano made when the lid was closed. 

She played a few chords absently, going through major scales and minor scales, arpeggio sets and diminished chords alike. Putting the notes in order helped put her mind in order.

Not even reaching for sheet music, Bea felt out a transition to her favorite piece. It was one her mother had liked to play when she used music for a living as a Five, down on the piano that was purely functional in the Women’s Room. She had played other songs for their guests, classics and new famous composers, but this song had just been for the family. On occasion, Queen Faith would invite her husband and sons into the Women’s Room, and Leon might pick up a cello to accompany his mother. 

Bea already played violin, but she had been learning piano, and she begged her mother to teach her the song. It was a little difficult for her smaller hands, but she easily mastered the bass clef part, and she and her mother would play it in duets. Ian, who had neither talent nor interest in learning music, would simply relax with the music. King Alan would close his eyes and had a smile on his face, which grew with the restless intensity of the simple song.

Bea played it now, knowing it by heart, closing her eyes like her father used to. She held desperately to the music, hoping that when she opened her eyes, she’d be in the Women’s Room with her mother, playing their duet as the women that were in Leon’s Selection giggled and conversed throughout the rest of the room. Taking a break in making the plans for Leon’s coronation, which would happen once he picked one of the girls to marry. The Women’s Room was alive, cheerful and melodramatic and everything in between, but never empty. Dust never collected on the piano, books sat in piles on the tables, maids filed back and forth in quick steps, refilling cups of tea or providing platters of pastries. 

Most importantly, as she played, Bea didn’t feel alone anymore. She could almost feel her mother’s warm hands guiding hers into place, making sure she played the right keys at the right time. Bea didn’t have the crown, and she never would. Her obligations included occupying Leon’s female guests, planning events, hosting the occasional parties, and working with her mother to create her own charity foundation. No law reviews, no advisor council breathing down her neck.

_ What am I supposed to do? _ she asked the music as she played it.  _ How am I supposed to do this on my own? _

The bass clef swelled to a forte, bringing more power to the delicate song. Bea played as expressively as she could, tears falling freely from her eyes and dripping down her cheeks now that she could be alone, away from prying eyes and people who would call her a weak little girl.

The song faded towards its end, leaving Bea with too many feelings and no outlet for them. Silence for two beats, then three, then a footstep on the tile floor and Bea jerked around, putting her mask back on, hoping that whoever it was was too far away to notice her tears.

To her relief, the person standing a few meters away was Skye. There was an odd look on the girl's face and Bea realized it was an expression she had rarely seen before: concern. 

Bea gave her a sheepish smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Skye replied, taking a few more hesitant steps closer to the piano.

"Have you been there long?" She carefully wiped her cheeks with the sleeves of her dress. "Sorry, I'm such a mess. I wasn't expecting anyone to be here to see me."

"I heard the music," Skye simply said. 

Looking down on the keys, Bea wasn't sure what else to say, but for some reason, she doesn't mind having Skye see her in her worst possible form. 

"I knew it was you, so I climbed up." Skye looked down on her boots. Bea glanced up and couldn't help but smile at how awkward the situation was. "I can go if you--"

"No, stay." Bea cut off before Skye could finish her sentence. She scooted a bit on the piano stool and gestured for the girl to join her.

Skye took the rest of the steps and sat next to her, examining the gleaming piano keys in front of her.

"Do you play?" Bea asked her. 

"I used to. My mother got me a piano tutor. She… got me a lot of tutors, actually. They were aiming for the perfect, talented daughter. It didn't work out."

"That's okay, although I wish you recorded her face when she realized you weren't going to be a music maestro any time soon."

Skye smiled at that. "It's not hard to imagine, trust me."

Bea laughed because it was true. "My mom was a Five. Music was in their blood and she used it for a living before the Selection made her a Queen. Still, she was hoping we'd continue the family talent somehow." 

"You did."

"It was more of a hobby now." 

There was a bit of silence as she started playing a tune for her. Skye listened intently, and as the song went on, Bea closed her eyes to feel music wash over her. Between the music and the comfortable silence that settled between them, it felt like they were the only people in the world. No controlling parents, no obligations or kingdom to look after.

Before she knew it, the song came to an end and her eyes fluttered open. To her right, Skye was already looking at her. 

Her face flushed. "Sorry, I… sometimes, I get lost to the music."

Skye averted her gaze, like she was embarrassed for being caught staring. "It's fine. That was… that was something else."

They shared a smile, and it made her think how far they had come since they met at the courtyard no more than a couple of months ago.

Her eyebrows furrowed when Bea recalled something the redhead told her before. "Do you mean that, Skye?"

"Mean what?" Skye tilted her head, confused.

"That I act like everyone's…" Bea sighed, just saying it was hard enough. "All of you... were my properties."

Skye's blue eyes widened a bit, probably recalling how she said it. "No, no. Of course not. I never meant that. I was just… I was being defensive when I thought you intentionally eavesdropped on our family conversation. I lashed out, and I'm really sorry… you didn't deserve that."

Bea bit her lip, nodding. "I've always been scared to be that person, you know?"

"I don't think you can be even if you wanted to. I've only been here no more than two months and I've felt more freedom in this place than I ever felt back in Lakedon." The redhead's stare softened. "I think that has something to do with the princess, who was totally not the kind of person I expected. And I expected worse."

Despite her sadness, Bea couldn't help but giggle a little. "I get it. But it meant a lot to hear you say that."

"I saw you earlier, during the… punishment, and I realized that must have been hard for you." Skye paused, frowning. Bea would give everything just for a glimpse of what was going on in her head at the moment. "How are you feeling?"

"Horrible," Bea admitted. She laid her head on Skye's shoulder, sighing heavily.

For a second, Skye stiffened at the gesture but eventually relaxed. Bea could feel just by the movement of her shoulders that Skye was fiddling with her hands. "I would be surprised if you don't feel that way. Just… let the feeling through. It will pass, it's not going to be like that everyday."

Bea shifted on her seat to look up at the redhead and Skye did the same. Brown eyes met blue, and for once, Bea felt a warm flutter in her chest as she let herself be captured by a different feeling that she only gets whenever she looks at Skye.

***

Bea didn't say anything once she retreated to the study, even when she noticed her grandfather had been staring at her from her periphery like he wanted to say something. What she considered torture every day felt like a good blessing for her at that time. She worked through her studies and paperwork for hours that she didn't realize how late it had gotten. 

The sun already sunk in the horizon when Bea put her fountain pen down, her grandfather had left half an hour ago and the light from outside the window had turned dark and dim. She leaned down and pressed her forehead on the surface of the mahogany table in front of her, taking deep breaths. 

A couple of firm knocks sounded from the door and Bea jumped. "Your Highness?"

The lock clicked and the door swung a little, revealing a very worried Grace standing outside. "It's getting late."

Bea didn't have the energy to argue so she just stood and put the important documents on a safe among the cabinets. She followed Grace back to her room. 

Once they get to the bathroom, Bea let Grace help her shed her clothing. There was nothing to hide between them. Grace had been serving her for only a couple of years but their relationship was almost that of two sisters who didn't need to hide anything between themselves. 

Her bath was ready, warm with the rose petals floating and the soothing scents of a candle on the corner giving the marble tub and floor a yellowish glow. 

Grace pulled her in a hug. "I'll be outside if you need anything."

"Thanks." Bea felt herself smile a little from the hug. 

"And I already asked someone to bring a little meal over. You didn't eat anything all day, Bea. It will help you feel better if you eat something, even a little."

She nodded. "I will."

Grace let her go and stepped out of the bathroom, leaving her standing in front of the wide mirror on the wall above her bathtub.

_ I don't look any different, but why am I feeling so awful? _ Bea wondered. She had been through many trials growing up, both public and on the court, but it had always been their Dad or grandfather doing the final say. The first-ever trial she led and it had to be one of her suitors. One whose only fault was to find comfort and a bit of relief from his nightmares the wrong way. 

Under the warm glow of the candles, the little round scar on her shoulder appeared to be whiter than the skin surrounding it. Bea reached up for it absentmindedly, a hidden reminder left behind by her brother's death.

_ If you will be Queen someday, don't you want your people to be safe?  _ Leon once told her. She wanted Lucas safe, but he was still hurt at the end of it.

Bea stepped into the tub and sat, leaning her back and letting the warm water soothe her nerves. 

***

Once Bea was out of the bath and safely tucked in bed, Grace was making her way back to her quarters. It had been a long day. Everyone in the palace was shaken, and even though Grace hadn’t known or even liked Lucas all that much, she still felt bad for him.

_ Imagine being punished so harshly and having your life ruined over one mistake, _ Grace thought. Then she stopped herself, not able to stop her own bitter laugh. She didn’t have to imagine it. She knew exactly how Lucas would be feeling. He may have nasty gashes and rips all along his back, but at least there were still people who cared about him. Bea, for one. She had told Grace about how the Crown would be funding his recovery.

And Grace hated herself for it, but she was jealous. Where was that safety net when she’d been a new Eight, thrown out into the streets? Where was it for all the Eights who weren’t as lucky as she was and had to resort to horrible things to get enough food to survive? Where was it when she’d stolen a package of dried meat because it was the only thing she’d had to eat in three days and the shop owner had dragged her through the middle of town as punishment?

Grace stopped against the wall once she was inside the servant passageway and took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay calm. None of that was Bea’s fault, and certainly none of it was Lucas’ fault. He deserved the help he was getting, of course.

It was all confusing. This was why Grace tried to shut it out. But it was just so much, and the closer she got to Bea, the more her past spilled out of her, like a weapon meant to sabotage one of the most precious relationships she had. 

Grace knew Bea wouldn’t mistreat her if the princess knew her past, but she knew everything would change. Bea would act differently around her, might even be scared of Grace because of the things she’d have to do. Maybe Bea had enough pain and grief in her life without Grace adding to the pile.

Getting control of herself, Grace headed down the ladder. It was the one that went directly into the kitchens, so Grace just hoped nobody was in there. But nobody besides Rita and Greg usually were, and Greg was still grieving for Lou, so they probably had gone to their quarters for the night. It was pretty late, after all.

Skipping the last three rungs at the bottom, Grace jumped to the ground only to hear a noise of surprise from directly behind her.  _ Shoot _ , she thought. Someone was there. She’d have to turn around, politely smile, make civil small talk…

“Miss Grace?” the voice said, and Grace whirled around.

“Ajay? What are you doing here?”

Ajay paused in the middle of pouring his tea through a strainer into a teapot and looked at it as if it should be obvious what he was doing.

“Right! I’m so sorry, I forgot to bring your tea tonight,” Grace said, stumbling through her words in her haste. She had forgotten all about Ajay’s tea, the one part of her non-Bea related chores that she actually enjoyed.

Ajay just gave a small shrug. “I don’t mind making it myself. It’s helping me keep my mind off… what happened this morning.”

Grace bit her lip. “Did you make enough tea for two? We could sit here and talk, if you want.”

“Well, being as that’s what we typically do, I have to agree,” Ajay said with a small smile, awkwardly perching on the counter. Grace had to hold back a laugh-- she had never seen a man who looked and acted so refined but was so clumsy and dorky in reality. She just lifted herself up on the counter next to him, and he handed her one of the mugs he’d filled.

Ever since the first time she’d brought him tea, Ajay had always invited Grace to come sit and talk for a bit. If Grace didn’t have any other chores, she’d accept. Making friends with the suitors was part of her duties as Bea’s friend and lady’s maid, and anyway, it would be rude to turn down the invitation all the time.

She liked talking to Ajay. He was raised in wealth and was well-educated, but he didn’t mince words like so many businessmen and politicians did. He had strong opinions and wasn’t afraid to show them.

_ Or maybe that’s just the side he shows you, _ her mind told her.  _ Maybe the only reason he likes to talk to you is because you’re his own private confessional. You’re a nobody, a palace servant, of course he’ll say these things in front of you. It’s like talking to an empty room. _

“What’s on your mind?” Ajay asked, and Grace was startled out of her spiral of self-pity.

“What?”

Ajay raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’re a thousand miles away,” he elaborated. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m just struggling with how to feel about Lucas’s sentencing, that’s all,” she said evasively.  _ Perfect. Now he won’t pursue the topic, because it’s uncomfortable, and you can just go back to being quiet or talking about boring things like his favorite scientists _ .

“Me too,” Ajay said instead, surprising Grace. “I feel bad for him, of course, but it could’ve been so much worse. There’s this family of Sixes who worked for us, cooking and cleaning and all that. The father of the family got injured, something about a broken back. The doctors couldn’t fix it-- or maybe they wouldn’t. But he was cast out onto the streets, deemed unfit for society. Just because he was injured.”

“It happens every day, in every province,” Grace agreed. “It’s not Lucas’s fault, but he’s getting the help and support he needs to recover. Most people who make dumb mistakes like he did see far worse.”

“I am glad he’s getting help, but… something about the way this country treats its poor has never sat right with me,” Ajay added. 

“When I was an Eight,” Grace started, wondering if she could even say the words. “When I um… left my family’s house, I lived on the streets for months before anyone found me. I had to steal food to survive, one time I got so sick that I thought I was going to die. I probably would’ve if Greg and Rita hadn’t found me and taken me in. And I’m the luckiest of any Eight I’ve ever met.”

Grace glanced to her side to see Ajay focused on her, no trace of pity in his expression, just listening to her talk. That wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d expected poorly-masked indifference at best. But it seemed like he actually cared.

_ He’s just pretending, _ Grace’s mind told her.  _ He wants you to shut up so he can keep talking. _

Grace fell silent, choosing to sip from her mug instead of talking. Ajay stayed silent too, refilling his mug quietly.

A few moments of the silence were all Grace could bear, and she was about to get up and flee the scene of her eternal embarrassment when a warm hand covered hers.

“I think you should tell Bea,” Ajay said. “She doesn’t know what goes on outside the palace. How could she? She might take action if a friend brought up the horrible conditions that the poor suffer. You know her better than any of us, Grace. She’s got a good heart. She’d do more to help if she knew what it was really like out there.”

Grace shook her head. “That’s the thing, though. She’s already got enough to do, I don’t want to add to her list of burdens.”

Ajay didn’t let go of Grace’s hand. “Do you really think she would see her best friend’s life as a burden?”

“It kind of is,” Grace said with a self-deprecating laugh. 

“You can control how much you say, but I know she really wants to know you better. You’re important to her.”

“I’m her lady’s maid.”

“You’re the closest thing she’s ever had to a sister,” Ajay argued. “Real quote.”

Grace raised her eyebrows, her mood lifted slightly. “You guys talk about me while you’re on dates?”

Ajay rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. “Not exclusively. But you’re her best friend, and I’m competing to win her heart. It kind of seems like we should be allies.”

“Only if you’re the right one for her,” Grace teased again. “What if you’re just in it for the crown? The money? The power?”

“Please,” Ajay said. “Anybody who wants this kind of power is the type of person who should never have it. I’ll admit that I wasn’t sure about Bea when I first arrived-- I mean, what kind of person brings 30 guys into their home to fight for her hand in marriage on national television?-- but I’m really starting to get to know her now.”

“And?”

“And… I’m not sure. She’s beautiful, of course, and fun to talk to. I definitely enjoy spending time with her. But my heart just needs a little more time to be sure.”

“Sure about…?”

“About the idea of marrying into the most powerful family in the country,” Ajay said. “All the responsibilities, all the dilemmas, all the arguments. She’s amazing, but the job… it has to be considered more thoughtfully.”

“I get it,” Grace said. “But if you really like her, don’t let her situation get in the way, okay? And don’t tell anyone I told you this, but I think she really likes you.”

Ajay smiled. “That’s good to hear. I definitely like her too. It’s just… a lot to think about.”

“You have time,” Grace reassured him. “And you have me. I’m always here for a cup of tea and some not-so-sage advice.”

“Give yourself a little more credit than that, Grace,” Ajay replied, nudging her foot with his. “You’re more important and more powerful than you think you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! we hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. In case you're curious, we made a playlist for Kingdom Fall. Here it is: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40CECTMSmibLq13SMEUemp?si=_T_q-IaLRqC6IBkFq9otsg
> 
> Each song has meaning for a specific character, pairing, or event. Have fun figuring out which is which!


	11. Hey, Little Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new people come to the palace! are the allies... or are they villains?

The palace renovations were officially finished yesterday so the last remnants of the attacks were gone and with it, the burial of the members of the King's Guard and the servants who had died during the attack was officiated by Bea before last week's Report as everyone commemorated their dead colleagues and fellow soldiers. 

The following days went on, the rebel attack and Lucas' public whipping was slowly moved to the back of everyone's mind as they returned to their normal daily routines.

"What's on this week's agenda?" She asked, looking to her right.

Maria checked on her clipboard with that ever-present professional look on her face as they walk, reading through the dates and the corresponding activity or event next to it. "Just the lessons with the suitors. Their cultural dance lessons with Miss Zoe Leon will be on Tuesday, but next week."

Bea stopped in the middle of the hallway, giving Maria a quizzical look. "In short, we have nothing good to show the country in regards to the progress of the Selection?" 

"I'm afraid that's the case."

"We can come up with something." Bea started thinking. "How about a Polo match? My brother loves that game and he'd be more than happy to give the suitors a quick lesson."

"We can make that happen." Maria agreed, writing it on a space in her list.

Grace, who had been with them the whole time, held up a newspaper for her. "You'd probably want to read this."

Maria leaned over to read over Bea's shoulder as they read through the article about the Selection. According to the Poll, Ajay had climbed through the rank and reached the first place, showing pictures of him and Bea standing next to each other during the burial. In the second rank was Brian, despite Bea's attempt to ignore his remarks about not getting any dates from her yet. Rory had fallen to the third place and Bea wasn't surprised at all by that. They had gotten into a little argument the same day Lucas was sent away and since then, Bea hadn't been able to talk to the guy or did he ever reach out to talk to her. 

It bothered her, but she was trying to avoid talking about Lucas' trial and knowing Rory, he will make sure to bring that up.

"About Brian Crandall," Maria spoke, interrupting her thoughts. "He was becoming very vocal about your… biased preferences among the suitors. Bea, I know you're the princess, and soon to be Queen… but he's still a Crandall. Their words can carry weight to your people. I think we should thread through his character carefully."

"I know," Bea sighed, knowing the girl was right. 

They might have bigger problems like the rebel movements and the growing number of Eights on the streets, but Brian Crandall had been the constant headache that could be ignored but was always there. He never hesitated in making up a story about them, who knows what Brian could say the next time he was given a chance to speak on live television. 

Bea looked down the tall windows on the corridor and on the lawn, she saw her twin brother jogging with officers and soldiers in the royal army. Ian could have been mistaken as one of them, with his build and stature, he had the makings of a soldier himself. Growing up, Solarian Military History and strategies had been in their line of studies and Ian actually started joining their training little by little once they reached the age of seventeen. The royal army was more than happy to let him tag along, as a Prince, he held a high-ranking position among them just by existing. 

Ian spotted them when he looked up the second floor of the palace and waved, making her smirk and Grace laughed beside her. Bea waved back and the three of them continued on their way.

"As I was saying," Bea started. "I'll think of a way to make him quiet."

"I know some." Grace gave her a mischievous smile.

"Definitely not," Bea shook her head, knowing exactly what Grace was thinking. "It can't involve breaking any bone in his body, not even a toe."

Maria's eyes widened. The girl had been used to hearing the banter between Bea and Grace by now, but sometimes, these banters could get too much for her professionalism.

"She's kidding, don't worry." Bea assured her.

Maria shot Grace a look out of the corner of her eye. “If you’re sure,” she said to Bea. “I think you should humor Brian, though. Take him on at least a short date, that should appease him for a while.”

“Ugh,” Bea groaned. “Alright, but can you set it up?”

Maria just looked at her.

“Mariaaaaaa,” Bea complained. “I know you have a million things to do but just send him a note saying I’m meeting him to go… I don’t know. To the tennis courts?”   
  


Maria sighed deeply. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Bea shot her a winning smile. “Thank you!”

Maria fake-glared at the princess, then smiled. “You’re welcome. Enjoy the rest of your day, Your Highness. I’ll let you know when your date is.”

“If your head fell off, she’d be right there with a tape,” Grace remarked as Maria strode away.

“Seriously,” Bea agreed. “Everyone could use a Maria in their lives.”

The two rounded the corner, and then Grace froze in her tracks. Bea walked forward a few steps, scanning the hallway for imminent threats but not seeing anything other than a bunch of statues and a group of guards walking down the hallway--

And then she realized why Grace had frozen. One of the guards, a tall, handsome guy with that distinct cleft chin that Bea knew could only belong to one person. 

"Owen?" Grace said, the name came out in a breathy whisper out of her lips.

He had seen her too by now and he said a few words to his fellow soldiers, who had bowed when they saw Bea, before they kept going to wherever they were heading. 

Owen Navarro came to the Palace a few months before Grace was brought in by Greg and Rita. He was a Seven who was drafted into the military when he turned eighteen, and not too long, he and Grace had become very close. Bea used to hear some snippets of their relationship from Grace and for a while, she thought Owen will be the one who'll bring Grace out of her shell and the girl will finally learn to be more open to her.

But then they broke up, not that long before Owen was stationed all the way to the South.

"Gracie!" Owen broke into a smile before running towards Grace and scooping her into a hug, her feet leaving the floor.

Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him as he practically spinned her around. "Oh my god! Put me down!"

Bea couldn't help but giggle. "Officer Navarro, welcome back."

Owen put Grace down eventually but the grin on his face never left, he bowed. "Your Highness. I was called over. After the previous attack and the decreasing number of the royal Army, General Frank thinks the Palace should be prioritized."

"Wait, so you're really back?" Grace asked, her hand still on the chest of his red-and-gold uniform. 

He looked down at her with that twinkle in his blue eyes. "Yes, Grace. I'm back."

"I know we… broke up," Grace said quietly, looking down. "But when I heard they're sending you to the south, I was really scared for you."

"Hey, I'm fine." Owen reached out for her hand. "It's actually quieter down there, considering the rumors about the rebels living in the South."

Bea let out a fake cough. "Well, I'm sure you two would like to catch up, I'll just go see if my presence will be needed somewhere else."

Before she turned away, she shot Grace a knowing wink that the girl returned with a blush.

Reaching the Great Hall, Bea was immediately met by three sets of eyes. Rory, Clint and the court lady that Clint had been dancing with during the ball were having a chat near the windows. Bea recognized her as Lady Natalie, daughter of one of the dukes who frequents the Palace.

Bea met Rory's eyes and she wondered if she should head back up. Before she could decide, Rory already made his excuses to the two and was now heading over to her. 

"Bea," Rory gave her an uncertain smile. "I was hoping to catch you."

"You've caught me," she returned the smile. "Let's take a walk?"

Rory nodded happily and he followed, keeping a respectful distance between them. Once they were in a quieter hallway, he started, "Listen, I want to apologize for overreacting during Lucas'..." Rory sighed heavily. "You know. I freaked out, and I didn't really consider how hard that must have been for you to do and you didn't have a choice because that's your duty. I… I should have been there for you instead of lashing out and accusing you like that."

"I feel better now." She gave him a sad smile. "I tried my best, you know? To make sure Lucas doesn't get the worst of it, but the council of advisors and my grandfather wanted to set an example for everyone and there's only so much I can do."

"Ian explained it to me and I felt horrible after that. I definitely deserve that."

Bea reached out and put a hand on his arm. "You don't, I get it. Not everyday that you'd see something like that and it can get really hard to watch. Especially if you know the person and you'd feel so… useless."

"I've seen a few." Rory admitted. "On the town's square. A couple of men, teenage kids…"

"What do you mean?" She looked up at him upon hearing that.

"The local public whippings?" Rory said it as if it was a common knowledge. "For anyone who will be caught stealing."

"You mean they do that to every town?" Bea froze. 

"Of course, isn't that in the rule book or something?"

"Of course not! All the crimes, big or small, were supposed to be reported to the palace and then it's our part to decide what's the fitting punishment for them."

Rory frowned. "I don't know, it's been happening for as long as everyone remembers."

"And you say they whip young people too?"

"Yeah." 

Bea felt extremely uncomfortable and definitely ashamed for not knowing about it. She would have to ask her grandfather regarding that. 

"You didn't know, did you?" Rory read her mind.

Bea shook her head, a bubble of anger was making her heart beat faster the more she thought about it. "You know me, Rory. I would have done everything I could to stop that if I'd known sooner."

Rory faced her, taking one of her hands to get her attention when her mind started imagining how it must have been done on the public squares. "I should have known you don't have any idea about those. Bea, you'll have the power you need to make it right and it won't be very long before you'll have it."

“I hope you’re right about that,” Bea said, smiling gratefully. “Thanks, Rory. I have to do everything I can for my country.”

“And I know you will,” Rory said. He offered Bea his arm. “Want to go somewhere?”

“We’re right here at the throne room,” Bea suggested as she looked around. “We can walk around if you’d like, but I don’t have anywhere particular to be.”

Rory had just opened his mouth to say something when the page suddenly threw the doors to the throne room open, almost making him jump.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” the page gasped upon seeing the pair. “Your Highness. It wasn’t my intention to--”

“It’s fine,” Bea waved him off. “Did you need something?”

“Your Highness, I would like to present your guests. They’re just through the door, on their way to the throne room.”

“Guests?” Bea asked, surprised. Neither she nor Ian had been expecting any guests, and the King Father hadn’t told them that anybody was coming. “Who is it?”

“The Duke of Paloma and his daughter, Your Highness.”

“Uncle Stefan? Let them in,” Bea said. The page nodded and disappeared through the door, and the Duke of Paloma and his daughter came through, walking up to Bea and Rory who stood by the throne.

Bea’s uncle walked with a cane and a slight limp, so Bea impatiently ran through the aisle to meet him in a huge hug halfway across the throne room. 

“Uncle!” she cried, wrapping her arms around him.

“Hey, little princess! It’s my favorite niece!” 

“I’m your only niece!” Bea retorted playfully, backing up. Her gaze flitted to the girl behind him, who had sunk into a half-curtsy.

“Lady Danielle,” she greeted the girl with a polite smile. She didn’t want to be cold towards her cousin, but they had never really gotten along.

“Your Highness,” Danielle replied, her eyes on Rory. “Sir Rory, it’s so lovely to finally meet you. We’ve been watching the Selection from the broadcasts.”

Rory dipped his head in a bow. “Thank you. It’s an honor to spend time with the Princess.”

“I’m sure it is,” Danielle replied with a sickly sweet smile. Bea shot her a warning glance, which the Marchioness made a point to ignore.

"We're glad to have you back in court, Danielle."

The girl arched an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"Depends. We'll see." She gave her a stiff smile before turning to her uncle. "I’ll have the servants set your rooms up immediately,” Bea said, motioning to the page, who ran off to give the orders. “For now, would you join us for lunch? We’ll have the servants take your things from your car into your rooms.”

“That would be lovely, little princess,” her uncle laughed. “Wow, you’re so grown up now. I remember when you were just a little girl, always hiding behind your brother Leon.”

“I’ve had to grow up quickly,” Bea agreed. “Rory, will you collect the other Selected for lunch?”

“Certainly,” he said, then raised her hand to kiss the back before he walked off.

"He's quite the looker," Danielle made a point to watch Rory as he walked away. 

"Danielle, sweetie, stop teasing your cousin." Her uncle chided his daughter in his own gentle way, which Danielle returned with a roll of her eyes. Uncle Stefan either didn't notice or care as he continued. "Anyways, I have come bearing gifts!"

Stefan nodded to one of his men who clapped for him, signalling the servants to roll in piles of packages. "My travels in Europe for the last few months had been proven fruitful. Perhaps I may have enjoyed it too much. My apologies for missing your Grandfather's birthday ball. My flight had been delayed, it was  _ horrible _ ."

Bea and Danielle eyed each other cautiously as her uncle rambled on and on about his travels.

"I heard about the attack and we tried to come as fast as we could." He explained.

"Uncle," Bea shook her head, giving her uncle a smile. "Please. Looking back now, I'm actually glad you didn't make it. I wouldn't want you to have seen that."

"Dear god, I wouldn't have wanted you to see that either. I've heard what happened. They almost got you, Beatrice."

"I got away, that's more important." Bea assured him, leading the three of them to the dining hall.

Ian was already waiting outside, freshly showered from his training and grinned as soon as he saw their uncle and Danielle. "Uncle Stefan, you're back!"

"Indeed I am, sweet boy!" Their uncle laughed heartily as Ian hugged him too.

"Cousin," Ian went to hug Danielle next, which the girl had no issue about. They always got along just fine. "It's been so long."

"I know. Father dragged me over. Sometimes, I think you were his children and not me." Danielle remarked with a laugh, and Ian joined in. 

"That's not true. I love all three of you equally." The man said defensively, pretending to be mad and failing. 

"Oh, great. The court jester is back." Someone spoke, grunting, and Bea realized their grandfather had arrived. 

Bea sighed, shaking her head at her weird family.

"Grandpa!" Danielle beamed, and this time, Bea knew the smile was genuine. The girl gave their grandfather a hug and the old man returned it.

The King Father's late twin brother, Prince Antony, was Danielle's real grandfather but the prince died in a war in New Asia long before Uncle Stefan had Danielle so none of them had really met him. Their grandfather treated Danielle as his own granddaughter and had been getting along better with her than Bea, which was something she always envied about.

Their group entered the dining hall a few minutes later to find the thirteen suitors were already waiting, all head bowed once their family came in. The five of them took their seats on the head table, where Bea had the center and her brother and grandfather on either sides of her. Danielle took a seat beside their grandfather and was actually closest to the first suitor on the right, who happened to be Rory. Their uncle was on Ian's other side, already in friendly terms with the suitors on their side.

Bea tried to join in on the conversations, but her mood would take a dive every time she looked over and found Rory and Danielle talking as if they had known each other all their lives. She resorted to listening to their uncle as he regaled the guys about his time in Prague. 

_ And to think I was only worried about the impending doom that was her date with Brian. _ Bea thought mournfully. Now she had to deal with a cousin whose goal in life must be to beat her in every competition.  _ If there is even any competition happening _ .

  * ••



Earlier that day, Bea had just left with Rory, leaving Grace and Owen alone.

“So,” she started, feeling exceedingly awkward. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad to be back, too,” Owen said. “It’s too hot and humid down here. It’s sunny here, but at least it’s dry.”

Grace nodded, not really wanting to talk about the weather. Thankfully Owen caught on and offered his arm to Grace, who took it gratefully.

“I think we should talk,” he said. “I didn’t like how things ended between us, and I was thinking about you the entire time I was stationed down south.”

Grace’s insides melted, and she couldn’t help the smile that came to her face. “I was really scared for you,” she admitted. “Sometimes I thought you’d never come back. But here you are.”

“Here I am,” Owen laughed. “Do you want to go to my quarters? We can talk privately there.”

Grace nodded, a little butterfly breaking loose in her stomach. It had been so long since she’d been alone, truly alone with someone. Much less her own ex. The memories of their relationship threatened to overwhelm her: the way his hand had fit perfectly on her waist, the smile on his face when he looked at her, the way his lips had felt against hers and how she’d melted every time they kissed. It was like he was a magnet, pulling her in.

Owen had the same quarters as before he’d left, which made Grace giggle. He laughed too, unlocking the door and opening it for her. It was a small room, just a bed, a desk, a table with two chairs and a fireplace. 

She knew the generals controlled the soldiers’ diet, and that they injected the men regularly with something that made them grow taller and put on muscle more easily. As a result, nearly all of the soldiers had the same figure, and their buzz cuts left them barely distinguishable from each other. But Grace had always noticed Owen: he stuck out with his blue eyes and the cleft chin. And he’d noticed her, too. 

The soldiers were automatic Twos upon being drafted, something that made most of them look down on the palace servants. They tended to be from lower castes, because the richer men would buy themselves out of the draft. Owen had been a Seven, from a family of bricklayers. He never talked about his family except to talk about his younger sister, who had been the only family he’d had left when he was drafted. She’d gone to stay with another family, but he still worried about her wellbeing every day.

Grace looked into his eyes once they were alone, standing awkwardly in the middle of his room. He’d always had some glint in his eyes, something that implied that he knew far more than anyone suspected. He still had that, he was still Grace’s Owen. The one he’d been before they’d broken up and he’d left. Looking at him, it was hard for Grace to remember why she’d ended things with him. Any reasons just fell flat.

“Grace… I missed you,” Owen admitted, walking towards her and taking her hands. 

“I missed you too,” she said quietly. “I thought about you all the time.”

“I was hoping you didn’t forget about me,” he smiled. God, he had such an addictive smile. Grace couldn’t help but lean closer.

“I could never.”

“Ever since they gave the orders to bring me back here, I was thinking about this moment,” he said. “Being alone with you again. Talking to you, holding you, maybe even a kiss or two if I was lucky.”

Grace couldn’t help herself. She leaned in, having to get up on her tiptoes, her arms wrapped around Owen’s neck, and kissed him. A simple kiss, nothing they hadn’t done a thousand times, but it brought heat to her cheeks all the same. Owen wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in again, deepening the kiss before Grace had any time to react.

When they finally pulled away, Grace bit her bottom lip, barely able to look him in the eye. “That wasn’t fair,” she complained. “You know I missed that.”

“I did, too. I missed everything.”

Grace blushed. “Me too,” she admitted. “And I’m so glad you’re back, but… isn’t it a little weird?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we broke up,” she said. “That’s not insignificant.”

“It’s not, but I honestly regret letting things end. I think we should try again.”

His words startled Grace out of a small trance that she’d been in ever since she’d seen him. She remembered breaking up with him, how hard it had been. But he had become too controlling. Just when she was trying to figure out who she was, she remembered he was trying to make her be who he wanted her to be.

“I—,” Grace hesitated, looking into Owen’s eyes. He looked so open, like he had laid out his heart in front of her. He seemed like he genuinely wanted her back, and… who was Grace to say no to that?

“Let me think about it,” she decided. “Can I have a few days?”

Owen let out a breath. “Of course, Gracie. Take some time to think about it.”

He said it with confidence, like he already knew what she would decide. Grace wished she knew, too. But instead she just leaned up to kiss him again, wanting his hands on her waist, wanting his lips on hers. 

  * ••



  
  


Their uncle excused himself after lunch to go to his room and rest his aching leg while Danielle headed to the Women's Room to greet some of the court ladies she used to hang out with.

Ian tried to assure her that Danielle's presence won't be causing any troubles for her but Bea seriously doubted it. Resulting to a grumpier mood that afternoon as she headed to the courtyard to get some fresh calming air. 

On her way, Bea heard someone calling after her and she turned to find Erin rushing after her. "Yes, Erin?"

"I'm sorry, but do you have a minute?" The girl asked.

"Of course, what's wrong?" Bea frowned. 

Erin took a few seconds to compose herself before holding out a newspaper in front of her. "I was hoping to show you this first before anyone sees it."

Bea was caught off guard but she took the newspaper and scanned the foreign language on the front page, realizing it was an international newspaper. More importantly, it was a French newspaper. Her eyebrows raised on the huge picture on the headline. On it was none other than Princess Amber, on a happy embrace with a different boy, a minor noble visiting from Spain according to the caption below it. 

"Wow," Bea whistled, surprised. "That didn't take her long enough. It's been what, a few weeks?"

The other girl shrugged. "A friend of mine sent it over and I thought you'd want to see it first before… you know, your brother."

"He'll be upset when he sees this." Bea sighed, folding the newspaper in two and handing it back. "I'll see if he'd seen this by already. He'd been occupied with his military training for now, but who knows. Thank you, Erin. For giving me a heads up."

"No problem, Your Highness." Erin smiled. "If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to call for me."

"Hmm, I might take you up on that one day," Bea returned the smile. She dipped her head and excused herself as Erin headed back to where she came from.

_ As if I don't have enough problems on my plate _ , she thought. Now she would be worried about Ian all over again. The breakup hit him hard, and she wouldn't want to see what the news would make him feel. 

Bea shook her head, along with all the worries inside her head as she pushed the doors to the courtyard gently. What she found was far better than she expected. Skye was sitting by the marble fountain in the center, watching as a flower floating on the surface with Vizmund on her side.

It was hard to keep the frown on her forehead when her eyes laid on the small peaceful smile on Skye's face, a smile that didn't go even when she noticed her standing on the doorway watching them. 

Without a word, Skye held out a white rose to the dog in front of her and Vizmund gently took it in his mouth, strutting over to where Bea had been standing and offered it with his tail wagging happily as he did. 

Bea leaned down to take it, the flower smelled fresh and lovely, and the thorns had been cut off from the stem. She scratched Vizmund's head and the dog followed her when she walked over to Skye. "Charming."

"Hardly," Skye shrugged, but her smile never left her lips.

"Still, if that flower was really meant for me, you don't have to ask Vizmund to give it to me."

"He was more than happy to give it himself." Skye reached out a hand and the dog went for it, letting Skye run her fingers through his soft white fur. 

Bea took a seat on the side of the fountain next to the redhead, noticing half a dozen different tiny flowers floating on the clear surface of the water. "What are you doing?"

Skye held out a small blue flower to her. "Here."

She gave the redhead a clueless look so Skye took her hand instead and placed the flower on her palm. Skye's hand was surprisingly warm, and the way she held Bea's in the gentlest way possible caused the butterfly in her stomach to flutter.

"What I'm going to say might sound cheesy and cliché," Skye started, looking down on the water. The light on the sky hitting the water was reflecting into her blue eyes in a very distracting way. 

"I'm listening," Bea encouraged, turning to the side so they were facing each other.

The movement made Skye look up and into her eyes. "I like making wishes on the fountains, like this one."

"Really?" She was pleasantly surprised, and Bea scanned the flowers already floating in the water and a few old ones that had sunk deeper in the water. "These were all your wishes, then?"

"I'm not admitting anything." Skye smirked. 

"Right." 

"Anyways," Skye continued, waving her off with a smile before a solemn look took over her face. "In our estate in Lakedon, there's this one fountain inside, probably the only fountain in all of our province that doesn't freeze from the cold. My parents made sure it stays that way and growing up, I… I like to make wishes on that fountain. I used to have a lot of them, as a kid. But my mother would get mad at me for throwing pennies and how they would ruin it, so I started to use flowers instead."

"Even if the flower doesn't sink like a penny?" 

"Yes… 'cause then I can watch them float on the surface and think about how they're carrying my wishes."

"That makes sense to me somehow." Bea agreed. 

"You should make one with me," Skye looked at the flower on her palm and Bea realized Skye was still holding her hand.

"Alright, but how can I be sure my wish will come true, then?"

"You don't." Skye laughed a little at that. "You just gotta have to see for yourself once the wish came true."

"I'd… trust your logic on this one." Bea said.

"No logic, just make a wish." Skye watched her set the flower on the surface and she did the same on a yellow one she had been holding. "Before you say anything, I'm not a very superstitious person when it comes to my wishes. I'd tell you my wish if you want to hear it."

"Alright, what is it?"

"Since I've come to the palace, I've found people who are…" Her voices faltered a little so she had to pause. As Skye said the next words, her eyes met Bea's brown ones and Bea found a vulnerability behind her gaze. "Who likes having me around, as myself, instead of hiding me away. I'm wishing for more time with those people, for more good memories that I can carry around with me once I have to go back to my province."

"You don't have to go back if you don't want to," Bea said. "You're always welcome here, you know that."

"I know, but can we really tell what will happen someday?"

She sighed and shook her head.

"So what's your wish?"

Bea turned to her flower, which had floated a few feet away. "I wish for you to be happy, in a place you feel free and with people who won't make you feel like you have to be someone you're not."

Skye blinked once she was done speaking. " _ That's _ your wish?"

"Yeah," Bea nodded firmly. "I want you to be okay."

"You're weird, but thanks." Skye rolled her eyes, but there was a bashful smile on her lips. " _ You _ were already helping."

"I try. I know you think that I might already have everything I want and that I don't have to wish for them but that's not exactly true. There are certain matters that not even a King or a Queen can change and control. My friends' happiness, the country's stability, for the rebels to stop hurting my people… I have so many wishes that if I file them up here, there won't be any space on the fountain to see the water."

"Yeah," Skye agreed. "But the palace has like fifteen fountains all over, and a man-made lake shaped like a giant sword out front."

"And there's Lake Berry." Bea added. "We can float as many flowers we want."

"Lake Berry?" 

"The lake sitting at the southern part of the palace grounds." She explained. "It was a bit of a trek but my mom and I used to walk there for a change of scenery. I can take you there one time."

"Only if you have time," said Skye. "I don't want to be blamed if the princess started skipping her duties and running off to who-knows-where."

Bea smiled at that. "Running away with you seems like a good idea right now."

Vizmund propped his head on the space between them, as if he was trying to listen to what they were talking about.

"Oh, so not only will they accuse me for your slacking off, they'd probably think I kidnapped the princess for my evil rituals and human sacrificing purposes."

Before she could stop it, Bea was already laughing even louder. The doors leading back inside were pushed open, making them jump.

"Hello?" Someone called, a voice that sounded very much like Grace's. "Is that laughter I hear?"

The girl appeared through the doorway, flanked by Ajay and Rory who both have confused looks on their faces. Grace skipped ahead of the two gentlemen with a basket of what seemed like food hanging on her arm. "I thought you might be starving, it had been hours ago since you had lunch."

"Already?" Bea gaped.  _ How did time move so fast? _ It felt like she just left the dining hall. "I thought I just got here."

"Hey, Skye," Grace greeted the redhead casually, looking from Skye to Bea with a knowing look. "Thought I'd find her here, imagine my surprise when I hear her laughter all the way from inside. I didn't expect her to be laughing that loud, not when Lady Danielle just came back."

"Danielle isn't that bad." Rory defended.

"Oh, dear." Grace shook her head, exasperated. 

"Who's Lady Danielle?" Asked Skye.

"My cousin."

"Oh."

"We found Miss Grace looking for you so we thought we might tag along." Ajay explained.

"Which reminds me. Ajay, Rory, this is Skye, the only person who had been keeping me sane for a while." Bea gestured a hand at the redhead next to her. "Skye, these are Rory and Ajay. Two of the Selected."

Skye nodded at the two. "You mean suitors."

"You're a Crandall." Rory asked cautiously.

"The only Crandall who's a welcome presence in the palace." Grace clarified.

Bea noticed the way Skye averted her gaze when Rory pointed that out so she thought of a way to change the subject.

"How about we all eat together?" Bea offered before Grace, in all the sudden excitement in her, could say anything. She pointed at the picnic table not far. "There's a very free, very usable outdoor table waiting for our company."

Grace laid the basket on the table and checked the contents. "I should have brought more glasses. That's okay, I can get more."

"Just tell someone and have them deliver it over." Bea told her. 

"It's fine, I know a shortcut."

Grace was gone just as soon as she arrived, leaving the four of them standing in front of the picnic basket, unsure what to do. 

"So…" Bea turned to the others, fiddling with the white rose in her hands. "Maybe we should set it up?"

Turns out, Rory was the only one with actual knowledge on how to set up a picnic table. In the end, Bea, Skye and Ajay just watched the guy do the whole thing by himself.

When Grace came back with three more glasses and some extra spoons, they all sat down on the outdoor benches and shared the food from the basket. Bea sat between Grace and Skye while Ajay and Rory were across the table. Bea didn't know how, but Grace somehow knew they would be joined by more people and packed some extra for them.

At first the table was quiet, but Rory started out a conversation by recalling the musical that he and Bea liked to watch when they were kids. 

Ajay was proven knowledgeable on plays and musicals too, and according to him, his grandmother was an actress before she retired and started a family with his grandfather. The whole time, Grace would pipe in when they reached a certain musical and was quoting her favorite lines, making Bea wonder how many of these plays did Grace actually saw. 

They were all surprised when Skye actually joined in. The girl had mentioned her fascination on light shows, something her parents very much disapproves of, but Bea was impressed on how technical Skye could get as she talked about the sets and lighting works on stage plays. 

The whole time Bea had been listening to them, she noticed Rory looking at the white rose that Bea had kept close to her. The guy spoke up once the conversation dwindled. "That's a beautiful rose. Did you get it from the gardens?"

"Hmm?" Bea looked up once she decided which color among the scones to get. "Oh, this? No. Skye gave it to me."

Both boys and Grace looked at Skye, who had busied herself on her cookies. "What."

"You didn't strike me as a white rose kind of girl." Rory noted, then turning to Bea. "You used to love sunflowers, remember?"

"I still do," Bea nodded. "But there's something about white roses, you know? Besides, Skye got it for me, what's not to like?" 

"How did you know she likes white roses?" Grace asked Skye.

Skye shrugged. "Just a guess."

"They were my mom's favorite flowers too." Bea shared.

"Honestly, most people I know like red roses more." Ajay added. "It's refreshing to hear when someone likes something different."

"True." Grace nodded.

Bea twirled the rose with her hands, and Rory had been eyeing it too. There was a frown on his forehead, and she wanted to ask if there was something wrong but decided against it when Rory shook it off and the smile went back to his face. 

Grace's smile wouldn't leave her face too and Bea knew exactly why. Skye-- of all people-- was the one to ask, giving Grace a weird look. "You've been awfully… smiley today."

Bea leaned on the girl's shoulder and whispered not so quietly in a sing-song tone. "Her boyfriend came back!"

Ajay, who had been occupied on his croissants next to Rory, started choking and coughing.

"Oof," Rory reached out, patting the other guy's back. "Careful, bro."

"Don't-- Don't call me that." Ajay managed to choke out in between coughs. 

"Whoa, are you okay?" Grace asked, worried.

Bea stood up and handed him a glass of water. "Here you go."

"Yes, yes," Ajay waved them all off, chugging the water in his glass. "I'm fine."

There was a pause, but Bea couldn't hold her giggle and before they knew it, they were all laughing. Even Ajay, despite the redness on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn i hope ajay's gonna be ok


	12. Confess

The picnic in the courtyard with Grace, Skye, Ajay and Rory was the last thing Bea had done that was remotely fun in the last few days.

She spent the rest of the week dreading her date with Brian and the occasional verbal sparring with Danielle, whom she  _ always _ found at Rory's side. Bea would feel a spark of jealousy whenever she would see those two together, but she decided to ignore it, knowing her cousin enjoyed seeing her so riled up. 

Her date with Brian was next, and Maria had informed her that they would be playing tennis. A fun date with anyone else, certainly, but Bea was dreading it. She had nothing to say to Brian, especially since he’d openly threatened her at her grandfather’s birthday ball. If it weren’t for his family’s prominence, he’d have been the first of the Selected to be eliminated. Nobody else could get away with acting like he did.

Bea sulked the whole way to the courtyard where they will be playing, even silently wishing that her grandfather would come yell at her or order her to work on something just so she could get out of the date. But nobody came to rescue her, and it wasn’t long before she caught sight of the young man himself, bouncing a ball on a racquet for absolutely nobody’s entertainment.

“Your Highness!” Brian cried upon seeing her. Erin’s cameramen looked up, the red lights on their cameras flicking on as Bea approached.

There was a picnic table laid out a bit distance away from the net, with a big umbrella to keep the food out of the sun and three servants standing obediently and were ready to do whatever Brian would order them to.

“Sir Brian,” Bea said, trying not to look as anxious as she felt. “How are you?”

Brian gave a toothy smile. “Wonderful, ever since Your Highness found the time in her busy schedule to have a date with me.”

“Well, you know. Royal duty calls,” Bea said, pressing her lips together after. “Shall we?”

“Of course, my lady. Your serve.”

Bea took her racquet out of its case and gave the tennis ball a few experimental bounces, showing Brian that he wasn’t the only one that could show off. Then she served, hitting the ball fast and hard.

Unfortunately, Brian was just as good at tennis as she’d expected him to be. He returned the ball gently, somehow managing to absorb most of the impact into his racquet, leaving Bea to scramble up to the net to catch the ball before its second bounce. She returned it, and they volleyed the ball back and forth a few times before Bea couldn’t quite hit one of Brian’s returns back, and the ball bounced off the grass yards away with the servant boy chasing after it.

“I guess they don’t teach tennis in princess school,” Brian jeered, loudly enough that Bea could hear him but not so that the camera would pick up his words. Bea mentally rolled her eyes. But she knew she couldn’t let her anger show, especially not in front of Erin and the cameras, so she just smiled.    
  
“Yeah, it’s all stuff about leading responsibly and understanding government policy,” she retorted. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand that.”

“Oh, but I do,” Brian replied. “Policy, management, responsibility… I was trained for that. It’s what would make me such a good king. At least, that’s what your grandfather says.”

“Interesting,” Bea said sarcastically. “Your serve. And don’t take it easy on me.”

Brian raised an eyebrow before he served the ball, lobbing it across the court so Bea had to run to return it. They hit back and forth until, again, Bea couldn’t seem to make it across the court in time to save the ball from its second bounce.

“Good shot,” she said reluctantly, a little upset with herself for seeming to lose to him. She couldn’t give him that victory.

“Sure it was,” he shrugged, faking modesty even though she could see his proud smile. “As long as I don’t get sent to the dungeons for hurting the princess’ feelings.”

“My feelings aren’t hurt so easily,” Bea said back, serving the ball again. A few returns in, Brian swung his racquet too hard in the wrong direction of the ball’s spin, counting as a loss.

He grit his teeth, seeming to force his expression to remain neutral. Bea realized that the threat of his anger had stopped scaring her, and had started just pissing her off. Who was he to say those things to her? She was his Crown Princess, she would be his Queen someday. There was nothing to fear from this pathetic arrogant boy.

Bea started to play better, tailing Brian to a deuce but managing to gain the advantage. It was all she could do not to spin around and stick her tongue out at him, mocking him for the easy shot he’d just missed.

“Alright, fine. You wanna play hard? Let’s play, for real,” Brian scowled. “I was just letting you win before.”

Bea doubted that, rolling her eyes as he served. He hit the ball with power, but Bea turned his own trick on him, giving her racket a spin to absorb the ball’s momentum and return it closer to the net. He lunged for the ball and volleyed it over the net, sending Bea careening backwards across the grass. She hit it just before it touched the ground, but the ball went wildly out of bounds on Brian’s side of the court, making her lose the point.

Bea nearly swore, a rage unlike any other springing up in her, fueled by the adrenaline. Brian cheered and let out a loud laugh.

“I told you, darling. I was going easy on you.”

Bea walked up to the net, determined not to let the cameras capture that conversation. “I am  _ not _ your darling,” Bea growled through a fake smile. “And I can send you out whenever I want. Don’t forget that.”

Brian shook his head, inexplicably still smiling. 

“Oh, Beatrice,” he mock-sighed. “Don’t you know I’m destined to be your King?”

“If I told my grandfather half the things you’d said to me, he’d kick you out himself.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Brian retorted, and Bea realized his grin was just a sweet smile pasted on his face for the cameras. “You really think the King Father values his disappointing heir more than the billions of business deals benefiting the Crown? And anyways, you send me home, and my sister’s on the same plane back home to Lakedon.”

Bea froze. 

“That’s right, I know you’re friends with my little sister,” Brian taunted her. “And of course, my darling, I wouldn’t want you to lose your best friend at court. So I’m determined to stick it out.”

“Skye is  _ my _ guest,” Bea insisted as she backed up, bouncing the ball a few times and serving it again. “You don’t get to say where she goes.”

“My parents can get your grandfather to send her away,” Brian said back, returning the ball. “Last time I checked, he outranks you.”

“Not for long,” Bea argued, letting out her best attempt at a carefree laugh so the cameras might think she was having fun on her date. She hit the ball back too powerfully. It hit the line of the court, counting as out-of-bounds.

“Advantage,” Brian called, fake pity all over his face. “Seems I hit a sensitive spot.”

“Undermining my authority in my own palace? I may not be able to get rid of you, but I can sure as hell make you wish you’d left.”

Brian served silently, and they played in silence until he opened his mouth again.

“Your grandfather may have presented this Selection to you as a choice, but they’ve already chosen for you. You’d better get used to having me around, darling, because you’re looking right at your future husband.”

His return flew by just out of Bea’s reach and her racquet whiffed at the air uselessly as the ball bounced again and again, eventually rolling out of bounds with the servants tailing after it.

Brian laughed gleefully. “See, Beatrice? It’s a metaphor. You can’t win against me. And if you can’t see that now, you’ll see it soon enough.”

Rage threatened to consume Bea, but she held it back. Boiling underneath the surface, she walked right up to Brian and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Good game,” she smiled, offering him her hand to shake. “And Brian?”

“Yes,  _ darling _ ?” he drawled.

“You can play a game of tennis, but I won’t let you play with my life.”

Then, she patted his shoulder and walked away. One of the servants rushed to meet her and took the racquet from her. She headed to the picnic table and not too long, Brian was at her side, carelessly tossing his own racquet to the servant boy who came forward. 

A maid handed him a towel. The cocky look on his face wasn’t gone even after what she said. He threw the towel back to the servant before turning to Bea. 

"Can't you hand things properly?" She sighed, shooting the servants apologetic looks.

"Not my fault they couldn't catch up." Brian rolled his eyes before shrugging it away, unwilling to pay attention to the servants and turned back to her. "I must admit, you're not as easily charmed as I expected you'd be. Or else, we would have gotten along from the beginning."

"I can hardly consider your efforts as charming." Bea returned. She took a sip from the cold lemonade the maid handed her. "From where I see it, you weren't even trying to win me over. You were trying to win over my crown."

"You  _ hardly _ gave me a fair chance." 

Bea looked him over, surprised. "Funny how you use the word  _ fair _ . Is that the word you use every time you think about how you gave the tip on Lucas and had him whipped twenty times?"

Brian let out an amused laugh. "Thomas brought that one onto himself, all I did was tell an officer that there was a boy who'd been sneaking around in the infirmary. I was doing the crown a service by rooting out the faulty ones. As for the whipping, I think it was  _ you _ who gave him that."

Shaking her head, Bea took a seat on one of the chairs that the maid pulled for her. Brian did the same, but he moved his chair a bit too close and Bea knew it seemed intimate to the cameras as he leaned over, as if they were actually enjoying each others' company.

"Besides," Brian took two wrapped sandwiches from the table and offered one to her with a smile. "You might as well do yourself a favor and not give the press a reason to paint you in such an undesirable way."

She took a deep cleansing breath, and it actually helped tone down the anger lying in her chest and for once, she felt herself loosen up a little and smile. "You know what, Brian? You have a point. We might as well get to know each other."

Bea leaned forward with that signature Everhart enthusiasm that people love about their family, and Brian was taken aback by the sudden change in her demeanor. At first, he was suspicious. Then Bea started asking him about his past achievements, the stories he so loved to talk about the most and she let him talk to his heart's content while she kept a smile to make it seem like she was listening. 

In reality, she had tuned him out a long time ago. Her eyes shifted a bit to his left shoulder, and on the distance, on one of the windows third floor of the palace, she could see another redhead standing by the balustrade, watching them. 

  * ••



  
  


The fourth arrow failed to lodge itself in the target like the others, falling dejectedly on the grass beneath the others.

Bea lowered the bow, frowning at the four arrows she shot in a row. The three others hit the center mark perfectly, but there was no space left for the fourth one.

Ian, who had been shooting his arrow far slower than she did, looked over in surprise. He smirked. "What did that target board ever do to you?"

"In my eyes, that's Brian Crandall's face," Bea said through gritted teeth. She took a red feathered arrow from the quiver next to her and raised her bow once more. The thin projectile flew with the blink of an eye but it sailed over the target. Bea grabbed another one and fired. And another. And another. When she stopped firing, the target was a mess of arrows sticking all over it and a few ones that bounced off to the grass. She shook her head, frustrated. "This isn't working."

Her twin brother watched her, amused. "The date was that bad, huh?"

"You have no idea." 

Considering her utter annoyance, Bea managed to finish her date with Brian that morning without murdering him in front of the cameras. She let him talk, and boy did he really talk. Her ears felt like bleeding by the end of their date and Bea had lost count of how many times she mentally rolled her eyes.

She set down her bow on the table and went to the table with refreshments. A maid was about to come over and assist her but Bea waved her hand off, pouring herself a glass of cold water and drinking half of it in one take. "I need a better target. Preferably Brian himself."

Ian just grinned, closing one eye as he lined up his shot, taking his time. 

"He had the audacity to undermine me," she pointed to herself. " _ Me _ . In my own court. I swear, Ian, I don't know how long I can handle having that boy under the same roof with us."

"Hey, take a deep breath," Ian reminded her. He let go of his arrow and it sailed. Unfortunately, it only hit the outside of the target despite all the concentration he put into the shot. Her brother shrugged, handing the bow to one of the servants to be put away. He knew he was hopeless when it came to archery, compared to Bea. He joined her by the refreshments table and she handed him a glass of water. "Did you invite me to hang out here just so you can rant to me about Brian?"

"Yes," Bea replied quickly. "And also, is it so bad to want to hang out with my twin brother?"

"Don't patronize me," Ian chided playfully. He sat on the stone bench next to the table and looked up at her. "You've been extra sweet to me lately, it's getting suspicious. Are you hiding something?"

"Hiding?" Bea scoffed, thinking of the newspaper article regarding Amber's new beau. "Why would you think that?"

"You're wrinkling your nose." He noted, raising an eyebrow. "I know you're keeping something. And before you deny it, I'd remind you that we're twins and that psychic connection is no joke. I can feel it."

She looked away, hoping her brother wouldn't catch the worry in her eyes as she bit on her bottom lip and thought of a good reason why she had been extra careful around him lately. Ian watched her the whole time, wordlessly, until he probably couldn't take it. "Okay, just spill it out. What is it?"

"Right, um," Bea hesitated, crossing her arms on her chest. "Have you heard from Amber lately?"

For a few seconds, the only response she got was the subtle shift of his eyebrow before he sighed heavily. "So is this about the headline?"

"You've seen it?" She asked, surprised.

"Yeah, unfortunately."

"From where?"

"Lady Natalie cornered me one time." Ian said. "Asking how I feel now that Princess Amber is dating again."

"How… do you feel?" She asked slowly. Also cursing Natalie and her gossipy mouth for spilling it to her brother. 

"I don't know," he shrugged. "How am I supposed to feel?"

"Ian…"

"Fine." Her brother's face fell. "Maybe a part of me wishes I'm still the one making her happy. Sometimes, I think back on that night and feel horrible all over again on how rudely I pushed her away. Maybe Grandpa was right about me--"

"No." Bea rushed to her brother's side and took a seat next to him. "No. Just… no. Stop thinking that. It felt horrible for you at the moment, I can see that. But think of it this way. Maybe you were happy with her, maybe she was good for you for a while, but do you really want to go and push ahead with her knowing you two weren't ready for that kind of thing?"

Ian looked at her for a long time, then shook his head. "No, god. There is so much I want to do in my life. Marriage, having my own family… I'm not ready for any of those."

"Honestly, me too." Bea leaned against her brother's shoulder and laid her head on his shoulder. "I want the Selection to be over, but that would mean I have to choose one of them and I don't know if I'm ready to make a decision that's going to be for a lifetime. If they'll even let me make that decision for myself."

"I'm so sorry, Bea." Ian whispered.

"I'm so sorry too."

They watched the horizon silently as the sun was on its way to setting. From the distance downhill, they could see the group of guards being prepped for their nightshift. 

"Bea?" He spoke after a long time.

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever wonder what Mom and Dad and Leon might be thinking about if they ever see us up there?"

"I think of them all the time." She confessed. "I wish they'd give me a sign, or maybe a guide on what to do sometimes. Still, I don't think there's anything we can do that would make them disappointed. Dad would probably say…"

"We'll get there." Ian finished for her. "Everybody has to start somewhere."

"Exactly." Bea smiled at the memory. 

They noticed someone approaching and when they turned, Grace was wheeling in a life-size straw dummy that was suspiciously the same height as Brian. They didn't know where the girl might have acquired it, but Bea immediately stood up when she saw the promising target the other girl had brought in.

"I heard someone ordered a new much tempting target." Grace said. "I couldn't find a red wig, though."

"Oh no, this is already perfect." Bea ran for her bow and started setting up her gears again. 

  
  


  * ••



  
  


_ When Bea opened her eyes, she was facing the bright blue sky overhead. Her eyes squinted on instinct and she had to shield her forearm over them as she looked around. _

_ She was lying on a familiar red-and-yellow picnic blanket, and two baskets filled with what looked like food was set just a couple of feet away from her.  _

_ Bea sat up quickly, wondering how she got there. She was in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by trees, wild plants and a bunch of bushes with tiny berries dotting them. Without looking that far, there was a clear body of water close by that Bea could only recognize as Lake Berry.  _

_ "What am I--" Bea turned her head from side to side, trying to see if anyone was around. She doesn't remember ever going there. How did I get here? "Hello?" _

_ No one answered, the trees seemed to echo her own voice back. Judging from the position of the sun, it must have been early afternoon. The sunlight reflecting on the surface of the lake and brightening up the surrounding clearing. Still, there was no sign that anyone was around except her. _

_ "Ian?" She called. "Grace?" _

_ No answer. _

_ "Skye?" _

_ Nothing.  _

_ Bea was starting to freak out. Since her parents died, she and Ian avoided going to that lake altogether. Especially since Frank strictly advised not wander all the way to the south of the palace grounds in fear that there might be rebels lurking and creeping among the dense trees.  _

_ Looking around though, the lake and the surrounding area seemed to be so peaceful, so bright, so perfect for a picnic.  _

_ Bea gasped softly as her eyes landed on an acoustic ukulele laid next to the basket as if someone had been using it. It had been a long time since she saw the instrument. The only person who knew how to play it was their mom, and she would bring it over with them when they went out and had picnics by the lake.  _

_ She reached out, ghosting her fingers over the string, trying to get the familiar feeling as her mother was teaching her how to play it. _

_ "Do you still play?" A voice asked and Bea froze. That gentle, warm voice. It can't be…  _

_ Bea looked up and sure enough, a beautiful woman with light-brown hair and a long summer dress was standing just outside the blanket, watching her with those amused dark brown eyes.  _

_ "Mom?" Bea whispered, blinking her own eyes in disbelief. The woman, her mother, looked exactly like how she always remembered. "I-I… are you really here?" _

_ Faith smiled softly at her question and stepped onto the blanket, joining her. "What do you think, sweetheart?" _

_ "I think I might be dreaming."  _

_ "I think so too," The woman agreed, reaching a hand and cupping her cheek. Even her mother's touch was gentle and warm, a feeling Bea had been missing since their mother and father had been taken away so suddenly. _

_ A drop of tear rolled down her cheeks and a lump had been forming in her throat as she was brought back to their happy lives before that fateful day. Bea was unable to stop the quivering of her bottom lips as more tears rushed from her eyes. "Mom, I missed you." _

_ "Oh, my baby," the Queen sat down and pulled Bea close to her, holding her tightly as Bea let herself cry on her mother's chest. _

_ "I need you," Bea spoke between her tears. "I don't know what to do, Mom. I don't think I can… I c-can…" _

_ "Shhhh…" the woman whispered, rocking them both slowly and kissing the top of her head.  _

_ "I need you and Dad. Everything's just--" _

_ "Sweetheart," Faith pulled back and held Bea's face on her hands, looking her deep in the eyes. "You will be just fine. You have to trust yourself, honey." _

_ "I can't. I can't trust what I'm doing. I-I don't even know where I'm supposed to go in my life." _

_ "You do." The former queen said firmly. "You know where you're going, Beatrice." _

_ "Where?" Bea sniffed, thinking how red her face must have gotten from all the crying but the loving smile on her mother's face expressed that she doesn't mind. Queen Faith never did mind if Bea walked down to breakfast in the morning with messy hair or ruffled clothes. She wiped her cheeks with the sleeves of her white dress.  _

_ "Don't let their doubts and discouraging words blind you from seeing your path." Her mother said softly. "You know where you will be heading, trust what your instincts were telling you."  _

_ Nodding her head, Bea let her mother brush the strands of blonde locks that strayed on her face. "What am I supposed to do, Mom?" _

_ "For now? You have to wake up." _

_ Her eyebrows knitted. "Wake up?" _

_ Queen Faith nodded urgently. "Yes, wake up, Bea." _

_ "But I don't want to. I don't want to leave you." _

_ Her mother looked her in the eyes and the next words that came out of her mouth were accompanied by the sound of banging. "Open your eyes."  _

Bea gasped awake, the bed jumping a little under her as she sat up. It took her sight a few moments to adjust in the darkness of her bedroom before she registered the dark figure standing not far from her bed. 

Her mouth fell open and for seconds, the two of them stared wide-eyed at each other and frozen. The person was dressed in all black: a pair of camo pants, a pair of leather gloves, a long-sleeved turtleneck shirt, and a white Venetian mask on top of the black bonnet covering their face.

"Guards!" Bea screamed just before the person lunged to her bed and grabbed her. 

The person-- a man, as she could tell from his body, covered her mouth and gripped the back of her head tightly as she squirmed and kicked at him.

She managed to get her face free for a moment and yelled. "GUARDS!"

"Shut it." The man growled, cupping her mouth once more. He managed to hold down both of her hands against her chest. Once he subdued her, he pulled something from his back pocket and pressed a hunting knife at her throat. His voice was unusually scratchy and rough, as if he forced it to be that way in order to keep it unrecognisable. "Scream and I swear I'll slit your throat."

"Hmp," Bea whimpered. The hand he used to cover her mouth snaked to the back of her head and gripped a fistful of her hair so hard she was starting to tear up. The only night Vizmund went to sleep in Ian's room and this had to happen. "What do you want?"

"Confession." He simply said.

"C-Confession?" She asked, clueless. She tried to squirm again but his hand tightened on her hair. "What confession? I don't know what you were hoping to hear from me."

"You and your family have committed so many crimes that you could barely remember which one is which." His tone conveyed utter disgust. 

"My family didn't do anything! We-- Ah!" Bea cried out in pain as he pulled on her hair once more. 

"Their deaths wouldn't be for nothing! Confess!"

"No! I don't know anything!" Bea pushed with her hand but he only pressed closer. 

She shut her eyes, hoping she was only dreaming and waited for it to pass but his strong hand was pulling at her hair so hard for it to be just a dream.

The man suddenly stopped and Bea realized they could hear footsteps coming. Her room was located at the end of the hallway so there was nothing else to go from there except her bedroom. He pressed the knife closer to her neck and she felt a little sting on her skin as the cold steel cut a little. Bea let out a sniff.

The footsteps stopped and at first, she thought she was only hearing things because it was followed by a long silence before a couple of knocking sounded on her door. "Bea?" Skye's muffled voice called quietly from outside her bedroom. "Are you still up? I can hear movements in there."

Bea struggled against her captor upon hearing the girl's voice. The two of them fought for the upper hand but the man easily overpowered her. In their brief scuffle, Bea realized that he let go of his knife and she screamed as loud as she could. "Skye! Hel--"

The man grabbed her face to keep her from creating more noise but it was too late. She heard Skye's rushed footsteps running off somewhere, followed by loud voices as more footsteps joined in. 

"--kick the damn door if you have to!" She heard Skye's frantic voice talking to the guards.

Realizing the guards are coming soon, the man pushed her hard against the headboard of her bed and fled to the balcony just in time for her doors to burst open, the force knocking them off the hinges. 

Bea flinched in fear and curled up in a ball on her bed, four guards immediately rushing in and heading out to the balcony in pursuit of the stranger.

"Bea!" Said Skye, already running to her side. "Oh my god. Did he hurt you?"

Her throat felt like it had closed up completely, preventing her from speaking so instead of answering, Bea just leaped from her place and clung to the other girl's arms like her life depended on it. Skye held her gently, a stark contrast to the way the man held her suffocatingly tight not too long ago.

"Hey, you're safe now," the redhead whispered to her ear as she cried on her shoulder. "You're safe now, Bea."

Over Skye's shoulder, Bea could vaguely see the outline of a book lying just outside her door through her blurry eyes. It was the same book she gave to Skye the other day, the girl must have dropped it in her hurry to get the guards. 

"Y-You came for me," Bea mumbled against the shoulder of Skye's sweater once her breathing was coming back to normal.

"I've never been so glad to be awake at this hour." Skye explained, rubbing her on the back to help her calm down. "I was tired but for some reason, I just couldn't sleep and that book you lend me was sitting on my bedside table like it was begging me to return it to you."

More footsteps sounded from the hallway heading to her bedroom as more people came. Frank, Ian, Grace and the King Father appeared on the doorway and at least six more guards behind them, surprised at the sight of the broken doors and the messy bedroom. Vizmund made a beeline to her, sniffing around her.

"What is it?" Frank spoke to his men. 

"Bea!" Ian ran to her bedside, followed by Grace and she met them both with a hug. "What the hell happened? We heard the yelling and thought we're under attack."

Grace started checking her all over for any injuries, smoothing the back of Bea's hair which had gone tangled from the man's relentless tugging. 

"Officer, what happened?" Their grandfather demanded, eyeing Bea anxiously before facing the guards.

"It was a man, Sir. He just jumped off the balcony!" The officer replied. "He must have broken in while the princess was asleep."

"Everything was quiet, he managed to sneak past the patrolling guards undetected." Another added. "We were stationed down the hall when Lady Crandall alerted us that something was amiss in the princess' chamber."

The men shifted their eyes to Skye, who sat next to her and Ian. The girl gestured at the book she dropped by the doorway. "I was returning her book, Your Majesty."

"Were you hurt, Beatrice?" Her grandfather asked. She was surprised to hear the hint of concern in the old man's voice. "Did he hurt you?"

Bea looked down on her lap and shook her head. She must look terrible after what happened that even her usually-cold grandfather was concerned. 

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?" Ian looked extremely worried. 

"No, I… I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Grace pressed. She gave her a look and the girl dropped it.

"Sir," Frank turned to the King Father. "Her Highness will need a far safer room than this if she wants to get some rest. I know a room, but… "

"Yes, yes," Their grandfather sighed heavily, she could practically see his thoughts swirling inside his head and for once, his back doesn't seem so stiff. "I know one chamber that is safer than any room in this palace." He finally said, meeting her eyes. "Take her to the King's chambers. Or maybe it's about time we start calling it the Queen's suite."

Everyone's eyes widened except for Frank and the King Father's. Even Bea couldn't believe what their grandfather just said. The King's chambers, their Dad's old bedroom, was located on the fifth floor along with the Queen's as the two bedrooms were connected to each other. In her case, it will be called the Queen's suite as soon as she moves in. Bea didn't expect to move and take her father's old bedroom so soon, at least not until her birthday and she would be finally crowned.

"I-- Are you sure, Grandfather?" She asked, her hands shaking on her lap. Grace must have noticed them so the girl covered them with her own. 

"Unless you have another room in mind that you'd rather stay in?"

Bea opened her mouth but she had no answer for that.

Grace suddenly stood. "I'll prepare the Queen's Suite at once, Your Majesty."

"Very well." The old man nodded. "The four of you, clear the room and go back to your beds while the officers investigate. Frank, bring that man to us, dead or alive."

"Copy, Sir." Frank saluted along with the officers and the King Father left. 

Bea tried to stand, but her legs were feeling weak and shaky from what happened that if not for Skye, she would have fell back to the bed. 

The three accompanied her to the quiet and slightly dimmed fifth floor with the three extra guards following a few meters behind. 

"Wow," Bea stared at the pair of ornate doors in front of them once they reached the suite, her eyes marveling at the red-and-gold detailings on the frame and the untarnished brass door handle. The face of a roaring tiger molded on the door knocker. 

"Wow is right," Ian agreed, gaping at the beautiful doors. 

"You're finally moving!" Grace said, her voice tinged with both excitement and disbelief. "Oh my god. You're really moving."

"If this room is supposed to be safer, then I think I agree with your grandfather." Skye said. 

Bea looked at each of them before pushing the doors open. The King's chambers looked exactly as they left it, untouched. She specifically told the staff not to take anything from the room, she wasn't ready to let go of her parents' memories just yet so she decided to preserve the room the way it was.

It even smelled exactly like how it was too when the King and Queen had been staying there, the homely feeling somehow still lingering in the air. Bea walked in hesitantly, held by Ian and Skye on her side. The redhead led her over to the King-sized ornate bed in the middle of the room past the sitting area as Grace busied herself on setting up the fireplace to warm up the room. Vizmund climbed on the bed and curled up near Bea's legs. 

The bed sheets and blankets were made of silk, the gold detailing just like the rest of the room, were adorning the bed, matching the red-and-gold tapestries hanging above the bed and the curtains by the windows.

Skye eyed the room. "It's much simpler than I expected. I thought it would be, like, solid gold in every corner."

"What?" Bea had to smile at that. "Not my parents."

"My parents certainly didn't hold back. Their bedroom is blinding." The redhead couldn't hold back her grimace at the thought of the master's bedroom in their estate.

Grace clapped her hands once she managed to start a fire. The light coming from the flame gave the suite a warmer ambiance. The girl turned to face her. "Now, how are you feeling? Can we do something? Get you something? I can run down to the kitchen and--"

"Grace," Bea called, cutting off her rambling. "I'll be fine, just… shaken."

Ian pulled back the sheets and gestured for her to lie back. Bea did, leaning back as Skye stacked the pillows on her back so she would be sitting up. "How did he even get in?"

"I have no idea." Bea shook her head, staring at the flame as she tried to recall it. "I… I was dreaming and then I woke up and he was there, as if looking for something. He grabbed me when he realized I was awake."

"Is anything hurting right now?" Ian asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

"The back of my head had been hurting a bit after he kept pulling a fistful of my hair and also when he pushed me."

Grace came closer to the bed. "What about the cut under your chin?" 

Bea reached up and felt under her chin, one spot stung as she touched it. "He-- He was pressing a knife at my throat, threatening to slit it if I dare to scream."

Her brother rubbed her shoulder. "I'm sorry. We're lucky he didn't get to do anything else. Did he say what he wanted?"

"I don't know exactly," she said, shaking her head as she picked on the blanket on her lap. "He kept asking me to… to confess."

"Confess?" Skye raised her eyebrows. "Confess what?"

"That's exactly what I'm confused about."

"It doesn't matter," Grace insisted. "You're safe now. We'll find out more when you get more rest. Can I get you something?"

"Maybe a cup of tea?"

"You got it." The older girl nodded. "Ian, are you staying?"

"Uh, I'll let her rest. The guards will be outside your doors at all times." He assured her. Ian squeezed her hand before he stood up. "I'll see you in the morning. I'll ask Frank for some updates regarding this intruder. That bastard won't be getting away from threatening you like that."

She could help the pout on her lips. "Thank you. I appreciate all of you for being here."

"You're the only family I have left. I'm not going to let anyone get away with hurting you." Ian rarely showed his temper but at that moment, Bea could see real anger behind his green eyes. 

With that, her brother sighed heavily and left, closing the door gently behind him. Skye went to stand next, but Bea reached for her hand and stopped her. 

"Skye," Bea said quietly, eyes pleading on the redhead. "Please stay...I-If you want."

Skye met her eyes for a few seconds as if thinking then nodded. "I'll be here."

"Thank you."

"It would help if someone would stay while she rests," Grace added, smiling at Bea. "I'll be down for a minute to get you something, okay? Skye will be here with you."

Bea nodded and Grace stepped out too, leaving her and Skye in the quiet bedroom. The redhead kicked off her boots and climbed a bit more on the bed, sitting and leaning back on the headboard next to her. Bea laid her head on the girl's shoulder. 

"You have no idea how I appreciate you being there," Bea spoke after a beat of comfortable silence passed between them. "If you hadn't come… I don't know what would have happened to me."

"I'm just glad to have been there in time." Skye said, worry softening her voice. "I don't know what I would have done if I came in a little too late either."

"You're always there, in the right moments." She realized, turning her head a little to look at the redhead. "Twice now, you were there to save my life. More times, you were there to cheer me up somehow."

"I'd do it all over again if I have to." The way Skye uttered those words with such certainty that it sent a warm flutter in her chest. 

Bea sighed, contented, and letting the glow of the flame and the sound of their breathing calm her heart as she closed her eyes.

  * ••



  
  


"Owen!" Grace called when she spotted him among the other guards rushing from the sub-level of the Palace, trying to fix their uniform as quickly as they could.

Owen stopped upon hearing her voice and headed over. "Grace, did you see what happened? Frank just summoned everyone from the barracks. Apparently there was an attack on the princess."

"There was," Grace confirmed. "She made it out just fine, but the attacker got away."

"No wonder the general ordered a wide manhunt all over the palace grounds."

She helped him button up the double-breasted front of his jacket and once they were done, Grace stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Go. Catch this bastard for me, will you?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Owen grinned as she let go and he ran after his fellow soldiers.

Grace watched until he disappeared around the corner before continuing on her way to the kitchens. Half of the Palace seemed to have woken up and looking at the clock, it was barely two in the morning. 

She walked into the kitchen to find Greg and Rita waiting, still in their night clothes. Rita had been pacing with her arms crossed, and Greg sat on the counter, tapping his fingers restlessly with his forehead creased in worry.

The couple looked up simultaneously once they saw her. Rita rushed to meet her. "We heard what happened. Is she okay? Was she hurt?"

"We wanted to go up and see for ourselves but we don't want to risk upsetting the King Father in case he sees us wandering on the fourth floor." Greg explained.

"She's fine." Grace replied immediately to relieve the worry on their faces. "Bea made it out okay. The King Father ordered that she moved to her father's old chambers now that her own bedroom was deemed unsafe."

The couple exchanged glances, surprised. Greg shook his head, amazed. "That's… something we didn't see coming."

"I know," Grace admitted. She rushed to the cupboards. 

"It's about time the Queen claims her rightful suite." Rita agreed, following Grace. "What do you need?"

"I'm going to make her tea, it might help calm her down," she told them as she worked. "Although, Lady Skye's magic already helped her before I left to get her tea."

"That girl's a bit strange, but far kinder than you'd expect from a Crandall." Greg remarked. "You can't argue with the effect she has on Bea."

"She's been a lot of help," Grace agreed. She and Rita worked together in the kitchen. As they talk. 

They could hear more guards marching above. At this rate, the whole palace would be awake before sunrise. 

"Did Bea say what he wanted?" Greg asked anxiously.

"According to Bea, he didn't really make sense. Just forcing her to confess."

Rita looked up. "Confess?" 

Grace shrugged. "Do you two have any idea what that might be? Did the late King and Queen ever do anything that someone out there would be willing to put so much effort to terrorize Bea like this?"

"No," Greg shook his head. "Unless he's a rebel. The rebels despised the royal family. Whether they're innocent or not."

"She was so shaken."

"Poor girl." Rita sighed. "The threat in her life is getting more and more often lately the closer her eighteenth birthday comes. She didn't ask for any of these."

"Everyone in the palace will make sure they won't get her." Greg assured them. "We'll make sure what happened to her parents and brother won't happen to her."

Grace laid out a tray and put an extra teacup for Skye in case she would want some too. 

Greg turned to her. "We heard Owen came back. Did he talk to you yet?"

She stopped, staring at the table to avoid his imploring gaze. She was hoping it would take a while before he and Rita found out because she knew what they would say about it. "Yeah… we, uh, we talked."

"I know that look, Grace." He said. "Please tell us you're not getting back with him."

"He asked me to consider it. I didn't say yes… well, not yet."

Rita let out an exasperated breath. "Grace, that boy…"

"... Is bad for me?" She asked. "You should have seen his face. He was really happy to see me, and I could tell he felt horrible from our breakup too. Besides, that's been a year ago. So much had changed, maybe--"

"He changed?" Greg guessed. "What if it's for the worse?"

"You're judging him way too harsh. Please, guys," Grace gave them both a pleading look. It had been a long time since they had a talk like this, she almost forgot how they strongly disapproved of her relationship with Owen. "Can we please drop this? For now?"

Rita exchanged glances with her husband as she put the teapot on the tray. "Honey, we're just asking you to be careful. We… we were there. We saw his influence on you."

"I'm a different girl now."

"You've been through a lot, Grace," Greg spoke gently. "We don't want you to ever go back to being that person."

Grace sighed and leaned against Rita as the woman wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "I know. That's why I love you both. I'll be careful, don't you worry."

Greg shook his head but smiled a little, he knew how stubborn she could be. When they didn't say anything else, Grace carefully picked up the tray and made her way out. "I'll tell Bea you were worried about her. Please go back to bed, you have to be up early."

She didn't hear their response but Grace hoped their worry had been eased for now, whether that worry was for her or Bea. Since the other head chef, Louis, had been killed during the rebel attack, Greg had been working more hours than he normally had to while the replacement was still trying to pick up the palace pace. 

On her way up the stairs, her mind wandered back to what they said. How they didn't want her to go back to being that person again, and Grace agreed with them. In her first few months in the palace, maybe the first year, she was a very different person. Distant, impulsive, and constantly pushing people away and leaning on the only comfort she wanted at that time which was her then-boyfriend, Owen. 

She didn't have friends, and her mind was filled with negativity and a lot of anger towards life. Then she broke up with Owen and she thought it was the most stupid decision she ever did followed by the fact that he was sent to the station in the South. 

Bea, the princess and the girl she always thought would never see her as more than a maid, actually became her real friend.

Grace passed by the windows on the corridor on the fourth floor and saw a great number of the palace guards combing the grounds with their flashlights and hunting dogs. 

_ I hope they catch him _ . _ If he did hurt Bea, I'd have killed him myself _ . Grace let out a wistful sigh. She climbed the staircase to the fifth floor and rounded the wing where the Queen's Suite was located. It would take some getting used to, but she was happy for Bea. It was about time people start recognizing the Queen that she will be soon. 

One of the guards stood on the end of the hallway while the two others stayed on both sides of the doors. One of them opened the left door for Grace when they saw her carrying the tray. 

Grace mumbled her thanks and pasted a smile as she walked into the room. "Hey, sorry that took longer than I--"

Her eyebrow rose when she looked across the room and noticed Bea was already fast asleep, her head lying on Skye's chest. The redhead must have fallen asleep as well, Skye laid on the edge of the bed with Bea's arm wrapped across her stomach as if it would keep her from falling. Vizmund was still curled up on the foot of the bed, in peace.

She couldn't help the smile on her face at the scene she stumbled into. Grace set the tray of tea on a table. "Guess you won't be needed anymore. I told you the Skye magic is more effective," she whispered to the teacups. 

Grace walked as quietly as she could on the carpet and turned off the bedside lamps, leaving the flame on the fireplace to be the only light in the room. She opened the door a little and told the guards to tell any visitors who would be showing up that the princess had fallen asleep before she went to one of the couches on the sitting area and laid down, yawning. She reached out for one of the cushions and cuddled with it, sleep taking over her not too long after. 

She doesn't know if it had been minutes or hours later when she heard a thump, waking her up. Grace looked over in fear that Bea's attacker had come back. She sighed in relief when she found it was only Skye, looking sheepish as she picked up something from the floor, her boots already on.

"Uh, sorry," Skye said, her voice was awkward and a bit raspy from sleep. The girl tried to tame her messy red hair and was failing a bit. "I-I should go back to my room before everyone else woke up."

"Yeah, sure," Grace laughed quietly, rubbing her eyes. She stood up and stretched, checking the windows and seeing the light glow of sunrise in the horizon. "I'll come with you. I should get ready for the day too."

Skye fixed Bea's blanket gently, tucking the princess in then reaching out to scratch Vizmund's head. "Hey, boy, watch over her, will you?"

The dog let out a yawn in response. 

"Good boy Vizmund," Skye smiled and followed Grace on their way out. 

The guards nodded at them when they stepped out. The two of them walked together in silence. When they reached the fourth floor and the hallway leading to Bea's old room, Skye pursed her lips. "Do you think she'll be okay?"

"She will be." Grace reassured the younger girl. "You made sure of that."

Skye mumbled in agreement, a bit shyly. 

"Skye?" She asked.

"Yes?"

"I don't know how you do it, but I'm glad you always find yourself on her side when she needs someone the most." Grace said sincerely. "Thousands of guards and people to keep her safe in these walls, but only now did I feel better knowing she got someone like you. Thank you, for saving her. And on all the other things too."

She didn't have to say what those things are, the flushing on Skye's face was confirmation enough for Grace that the redhead knew what she was talking about. 

"She's been there for me too," Skye said. "More than anyone in my life before. She's more than a princess to me, she's my friend."

Grace smiled, but she knew there were deeper reasons on how they connected so fast and great together despite the complicated life at court. 

They arrived at the third floor and Grace patted Skye on the shoulder before separating ways. 

  * ••



Bea woke up feeling a lot better around eight in the morning, finding herself alone in the room with just Vizmund snoring with his head using her leg as a pillow.

The rays of sunlight passing through the cracks between the curtains illuminated the room, brightening up the entire chamber, and she had to squint while her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness around her.

It took her almost a minute before she remembered where she was, the events from the previous nights coming back into her mind in flashes. 

Looking around, neither Skye nor Grace were around. They must have left a while ago when she was fast asleep. 

"Morning, Vizmund," She yawned, reaching over to scratch the white fluff on her leg, which felt a bit numb for having his weight on it for what must be hours. "You're killing my leg."

Vizmund looked up at her innocently. 

She smiled at him before scrambling out of the giant bed, stretching her back and arms as she headed to the tall windows.

Bea pushed the curtains aside, bathing the room with more sunlight then throwing the huge window panels open to let in the cool morning breeze. Bea raised her face and inhaled deeply, smiling up at the sky. Far below on the field, the guards were doing their morning training and few of the noble children running around the courtyard. 

It looked more peaceful than she expected, it was almost as if the attack the night before was nothing but a bad dream.


	13. Like A Star

The doors burst open along with Grace's cheerful voice. "Rise and shine, my dear Princess!"

Bea turned, yawning. "Morning, Grace."

Grace beamed, spreading a bunch of dresses on the bed and startling Vizmund out of the way. "I thought you might want to look extra lovely today and show everyone that no matter what kind of attack they put against you, you'll still rise up the next morning looking lovelier than ever."

Bea smiled. "That's the plan." 

"Good. Now if you're ready to face the day, you might want to go ahead to the bathroom. Breakfast will be delivered over."

Bea wanted to protest, a part of her wanted to stay inside and not deal with anyone for the rest of the day but she knew she had to. Grace must have seen it on her face, her shoulders sagged and the girl gave her a sympathetic smile. "Your suitors heard what happened by now, and some of them were actually worried about you."

"Okay," Bea agreed half-heartedly. "Yes, I'll go get ready."

She headed to the bathroom for a quick cleansing bath while she could hear Grace walking around the suite outside, probably preparing what they would need for her to look presentable that day. 

As Bea washed her hair, she started feeling on the back of her head, checking if it was still hurting but she was glad to find that it no longer bothered her. 

" _ You and your family have committed so many crimes that you could barely remember which one is which _ ." The man's voice echoed in her mind as she closed her eyes.

Bea wondered what he was hoping to hear from her. The anger in his eyes when she met them through the mask, it seemed more personal for it to be a random plot. His hands were shaking, a tell she didn't notice at first while he was gripping hers, but she knew deep inside that whoever he was, he didn't plan to hurt her at all. She closed her eyes, leaning back on the marble bathtub until her face submerged on the water, hoping for his words to be drowned out.

" _ Their deaths wouldn't be for nothing! Confess _ !" he’d screamed desperately. 

Bea sat up quickly, gasping for air and wiping the water off her face. 

The door to the bathroom clicked open a little and Grace peeked. "Is everything okay in here?"

"Y-Yeah." Bea answered, breathing hard. 

"Okay. Breakfast is here, by the way." The girl said before closing the door once more.

Bea ran a hand through her wet blonde hair, shaking the previous night out of her head. She had to look into the history of her own family, especially during their Grandfather's and their father's reign, see if they happened to have done something that might have caused the death of someone or more that wasn't related to the rebels or the army sent to New Asia during their war. 

With that promising and depressing thought at once, Bea stepped out of the marble tub and grabbed the towels from the hook to dry and wrap herself up.

Grace had just finished setting up her breakfast on the table close to the balcony overlooking the garden, so Bea went ahead to eat. 

"So," Grace started, eyeing her. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better." Bea replied, taking a sip of her warm tea. "You guys really helped last night."

"I think that was more from Skye's efforts," the other girl smiled. "When I came back from getting your tea, you two were already asleep."

Bea stopped mid-sip. "Skye fell asleep here?" 

"Yeah, the poor girl must have been tired, so I didn't have the heart to wake you two up for tea."

"Where did she go?"

"She woke up before sunrise, said she'd better get back to her own room before everyone else wakes up."

Bea pursed her lips. She didn't even have time to thank her. 

"Skye really was worried about you." Grace went on. "She almost didn't want to leave earlier."

"Then why did she?" 

Grace shrugged. "You know her, she might think it was some kind of intrusion if she stayed longer."

Bea sighed but nodded. "Any news?"

"Not from me." The girl shook her head. "But your brother might have some updates. Frank and the guards were keeping the investigation under wraps."

"I'll go down in a bit."

"Fair warning, though, everyone already heard about it by now."

_ Great _ , said a voice in her head.

Grace wasn't joking. As soon as Bea made her way down the palace, nobles and advisors alike had approached her and appeared to be worried about her wellbeing after last night. That was until they asked how she was liking her stay in the former King's chambers and Bea was suddenly faced with the fact that these people were on the move on gaining the favor of the next person to sit on the throne : Her.

Bea kept her smile the whole time, she grew up playing this game so she knew what to do, but mostly, her role before was to be a charming princess, not the subject of everyone's political and social affection.

"My lady," someone called. 

They stopped walking and Bea let out a breath. Just as she thought she got away from them. She smiled though, when she realized it was just Maria. "Oh, good. Someone worth talking to for once."

"Looking better, I see," Maria beamed.

"Thank you," Bea looked down on her casual navy blue dress and twirled to show it. "Compliments to my personal stylist."

"Yours truly." Grace said, not-so-humbly.

"Good eye," Maria complimented before turning back to Bea. "I wanted to check in on you but I'm sure you're tired of answering the same question by now."

"I appreciate that." She said. "Honestly, I'm feeling better."

Maria stayed on her side as the three of them walked down the hallway. They rounded the corner and found Ian talking to a group of uniformed guards, one of them was Owen, causing a smile on Grace's face.

Ian dismissed the men upon seeing them, mumbling a reminder before the group bowed and left. Owen gave Grace a wink before following the others.

"Bea, glad to see you out and about," her brother grinned and gave her a quick hug, nodding to the two girls behind her.

"Good morning, brother. Any news?"

His grin dropped. "You might not be happy. The guards haven't found him."

"Oh." Bea sighed. 

"Yes, but don't worry, we haven't stopped searching."

"How did he get away so fast?" Grace asked, frowning.

"Who knows," Ian shrugged. "Frank guessed he might still be in the palace. The grounds go on for miles, he can't have gone that far before the guards started combing every corner."

"Is it safe for the princess to be out like this?" Maria asked. "He might be lurking somewhere, waiting for the chance to finish the job."

Bea shook her head, determined. "As tempting as locking up in my room for the day is, I don't want my people to get the idea that I'm scared or intimidated by a man who was hiding behind a mask."

Ian looked like he wanted to ask her to consider but he knew how stubborn she could be. "Might be a good idea."

"Are you serious?" Grace glanced between the two. "You're gonna dangle yourself out here like some sort of bait?" 

"Even better." Bea agreed. Grace and Maria were horrified. "I'll make sure to be surrounded by people." 

Her brother gave her a nervous look. 

"I promise." Bea told him.

"Fine." Ian sighed. "I'll stick by your side, then."

Bea wanted to say how she doesn't need to be guarded that close but she stopped herself. She knew they were just worried about her. "I'm going to the study, Grandpa sent a summon for me and Frank might have found something last night."

"Lead the way."

"Maria?" She turned to the older girl, who looked up from her tablet when she heard her name. "Meet me in a few hours so we can resume whatever discussion needs to happen regarding the Selection."

"Of course." Maria curtsied and left. 

"Grace?"

"I'll walk Vizmund." Grace immediately said, earning a smile from her.

"You got it."

Once Grace had walked away too, Bea finally faced her brother and the two of them headed to the study together. 

A handful of the royal army officers along with Frank and the King Father stood around the huge sand table when they walked in, as if they had been doing some battle planning. All of them turned to the door when it opened and mumbled their greeting at her and Ian. 

"Your Highnesses." Frank greeted them. He gave his men a brief look and they all piled out of the study, leaving the four of them alone. "We found a few… things your attacker left behind."

Bea looked at the few items laid on another table beside the map of what looked like the palace grounds. The items were wrapped in Ziploc bags since they were considered evidence and she reached out and picked up the hunting knife that was pressed on her throat just last night.

The handle was made of dark wood, worn and old but the blade was smooth and seemed regularly sharpened. Bea noticed a little engraving on the hilt and squinted to read it closer. It wasn't even a word, only a tiny cross, like a star. 

"Is this the knife?" She asked. 

"It is, Your Highness." Frank confirmed

Bea studied it closely. "No fingerprints, I suppose?"

The general shook his head.

"Alright," she nodded. "Can I keep it?"

Frank and their grandfather were surprised. The King Father scoffed, like she had suddenly gone delusional. "Why would you want to keep the same thing your attacker used to try and kill you?"

Bea doesn't have an explanation for that. She had this overwhelming need to keep it, a feeling that there might be something more to the knife than just a mere weapon to assassinate her. She glanced at Frank and the guy agreed reluctantly. 

The next item she saw was a single black leather glove. Bea recalled how she accidentally ripped it off the man's hand when they were grappling, she didn't notice he left it behind. There were more items left but most of them were broken pieces and Bea recognized some of them as things from her room. 

"We're still looking, Your Highness," Frank assured her. "I am confident that he hadn't gone very far, and we're looking closely within the palace in case he managed to blend in among the servants."

"Thank you," Bea nodded. "When you catch him, I was hoping to talk to him. I have a few questions that he'll have to answer."

"Are you sure, Bea?" Ian asked.

She looked around at the three men. His grandfather seemed to be interested in hearing her what she would say. "He can't just attack me without a reason, Ian. I want my answers."

Frank nodded. "We'll notify you once we get him."

"Grandfather," she turned to the old man sitting at the head of the table. "Is there anything you need me to do for today?"

"I supposed you can have the rest of the day," He waved her off. "But tomorrow, we'll have a lot of papers waiting to be signed."

Bea dipped her head and excused herself to the gentlemen. Ian, of course, was right behind her when she stepped out of the study.

Ian kept his pace with her. "Why do you want to keep the knife?"

"I have a feeling the knife is important." She said in a low tone so only Ian could hear. "At least to someone. My instincts were telling me it would give me some answers."

"Okay," Ian conceded. "I'll trust you know what you're doing."

"I do."

She and her brother arrived in the Great Hall, where more nobles and about half of the suitors were currently hanging out. Bea braced herself as more people approached, asking how she was. 

Maria was there, watching as everyone socialized and only approached when she saw them coming over. On one side of the Great hall, Danielle and Natalie were lounging on a set of couches with Ajay, Rory, Clint, Jordan, Michael and Caleb as the boys played a casual card game. Ajay saw their group coming and stood abruptly, the five other suitors copied his movement. Clint practically stumbling off the couch if not for Rory. 

"Is it true someone tried to kill you last night?" Natalie asked bluntly as she curtsied.

Everyone looked at the girl weirdly, except for Danielle who sighed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes. "My god, Natalie. You can't just ask a princess if someone tried to kill her."

"What?" Natalie turned to the others. "I was curious. You can't tell me you're not, we were all just talking about it."

There was an awkward pause as the boys fidgeted on their spots, which might have something to do with the glare Maria had been shooting them.

"I can't say for sure, Lady Natalie," Bea decided to reply. "But it was definitely terrifying."

"I told you it would be!" The girl nudged Clint.

"Bea," Ajay spoke up, then cleared his throat. His eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Um, Your Highness, we heard what happened. We've been really..." 

"I'm well, Ajay," Bea gave him a soft smile to show him she was indeed fine. "Much better now. No need to worry. What are you all doing?" 

Everyone was hesitant when she suddenly changed the subject. She glanced at the center table laid with cards and playing chips. In the middle were plates of pastries and drinks.

"An old card game called Poker, Your Highness," Jordan answered for everyone.

"Well, please continue," she laughed a little as the suitors scrambled back to their seats. "If you don't mind me hanging around and watching you play."

"Not at all," Rory seemed more than happy.

Danielle scooted a bit closer next to the guy and Bea shot her cousin a fleeting look. Whether Bea had any feelings for a suitor or not, for the people to see one of her suitors linked with anyone other than her will be considered treason and could result to severe punishments. 

She knew what Danielle had been trying to do, but she was hoping her cousin knew what would happen to Rory if other people started speculating something between them. 

Bea decided to take the spot next to Ajay since the others don't seem to mind. "So how do you play it?"

The guys resumed their games as some of them watched. Ian sat next to Michael who had been competing against Jordan, Ajay and Rory. She was surprised to find that her brother actually knew how the game works, saying the other cadets play it a lot when they're not in training. Danielle was leaning too close to Rory for Bea's comfort as if she was helping him with his cards. 

The maids went back and forth, collecting glasses and empty plates. She was watching Ajay's cards and trying to figure out how to play it. Apparently, Ajay had been winning and Rory was becoming more frustrated as they played games after games. 

"You guys should play strip poker next time." Natalie suggested.

Michael smirked. "I don't think the ladies in here can handle that."

"What's strip poker?” Maria asked sharply.

"Uh..." Jordan leaned over to whisper it in Maria's ears.

Maria instantly turned red. "Absolutely not."

Bea couldn't help but giggle. She had never seen a game like that but based on the smirk Michael had and the redness on Maria's face, it would be something really scandalous. 

Their game continued for about an hour more. Even Ian got caught up with the competitiveness of the guys playing. Although he was playing it all cool, Ajay was definitely beating everyone on the game. The stacks of chips in front of him was getting higher. 

Sometime in the game, Bea spotted Skye walking in from the garden and beckoned her to join them. The redhead sat close to their group, telling Bea how the kids in the courtyard won't stop bothering her so she decided to just come inside. 

Aiden, Mason and Noah came over to watch too, their little group started growing as they played more games. 

Bea leaned over to Skye. "Did you get enough sleep?" 

"Uh, yeah," Skye nodded a little, looking embarrassed. "Sorry I fell asleep."

"Nonsense," Bea smiled. "I'm glad you did."

"I don't usually fall asleep on random beds, in case you were wondering." The redhead shook her head, letting out a quiet laugh. "Last night was just… A lot."

"I know." She reached over and squeezed Skye's hand.

The suitors let out a loud cheer, breaking up their conversation. Turns out, it was just Ajay and Rory playing now and the game was getting heated.

"How did you get so good at this?" Bea asked Ajay as they studied his cards.

"You know how I learn most things," he said. "My father and I would sometimes humor some of our foreign acquaintances and play a few card games." He offered her the cards. "Maybe a good luck kiss on my cards?"

"That's not fair!" Rory protested. 

Leaning forward, Bea set a light kiss on Ajay's cards. The table let out a rowdy cheer as she did so. 

"Thank you, my dear lady," Ajay smiled and turned to the game.

Neither he or Rory got to lay any cards on the table. Four guards suddenly came running down the staircase to the Great Hall and more on the other entrances.

"You!" One of them pointed in the group. "Get away from the princess!"

Their group scattered in surprise, looking at one another. The guards reached them and roughly grabbed Noah's jacket. 

"What--" Bea gasped, her eyes widened as the guards grappled with a very confused Noah. "What's going on?!"

"Hey, let him go!" Mason yelled at the guards.

"What's wrong with you?" Noah demanded, pushing them away with all his might.

"Your Highness," The officer said. "We found evidence that this man was your assailant last night!"

Everyone looked at Noah in disbelief. His jaw dropped open. "What? Assailant?"

"Stand down, Officer!" Bea ordered when one of the guards hit Noah on the face as he struggled. "Let's just all calm down for a second."

"Keep your hands off me!" Noah growled, his lip already bleeding. 

More guards spilled into the Great Hall, followed by Frank. Behind him, two guards were hauling a suitcase with them.

Noah seemed to have recognized it. "That's-- What are you doing with my stuff?!"

The officer opened the suitcase and the things inside spilled out. There were some sets of clothes, a couple bottles of perfume and to Bea's horror, a single black glove and a plain white Venetian mask fell to the floor. 

The crowd gasped.

"Those aren't mine!" Noah said in shock. One of the guards kicked the back of his legs and he fell forward to a kneeling position. 

Ian pushed through the people. "They just happened to be in your suitcase then?"

"I don't know how they got there!"

The prince lunged forward and landed a blow on Noah's face. "Ow!" Ian cried, clutching his bruising knuckles. "Bastard!"

Bea stared at the scene, rendered speechless. She couldn't believe what was happening.  _ Noah? Noah attacked me? _ Her eyes settled on Ian's hand as her brother rubbed the pain away from it. The sight brought a flash of memory in her mind.

_ A hand. The glove was ripped off from his hand _ . Bea looked at Noah's hand and remembered how he didn't reach for her hand the first day they met.

The scars on Noah's knuckles were always there. Pale and white. She would have seen them if--

_ It's not him. It's not Noah _ , Bea realized. She grabbed her brother's arm and pulled him back, who was just about to attack the other guy once more. "Ian, stop this."

"Bea, he tried to kill you!" Ian seethed.

"I don't have anything to do with that!" Noah defended.

"Right now, the evidence all pointed to you." Frank spoke coldly. 

"Guards, take him away," Bea told the men in uniforms. "And don't do anything until I say so. I want to interrogate him myself."

"What?" Noah looked around in panic. "Bea! It wasn't me!"

She looked away as the guards dragged him off his feet, the crowd of nobles and servants parting to give way.

"Man, this is crazy." Mason shook his head, looking very upset and stormed upstairs.

The crowd slowly dispersed, shooting her anxious looks before going back to whatever they were doing. Ajay and Rory looked worried more than ever. Bea noticed Erin and her cameraman among the crowd. "Erin, destroy that footage this instant."

Erin seemed to want to protest but a glare from Bea made her nod. 

"I can't believe Noah can do that." She heard Caleb told the others.

"He's an odd dude," Michael said. "I didn't know he would be capable of that."

"Come on, guys," Jordan was already collecting the cards on the table.

"Wow," Danielle gave her a dry look. "Your Selection sure brings a lot of drama around here."

"Not now, Danielle."

"Whatever." The girl shrugged and walked away, the skirt of her long dress swishing as she walked. Natalie chasing after her.

Bea gritted her teeth, clenching her fists. "General."

Frank looked over. "Yes, my lady?"

"Tell your men to refrain from hurting the prisoner." She said. "I don't want the same thing that happened to Lucas to happen to him as well."

Frank was confused but nodded. "As you wish, Your Highness."

"Are you out of your mind?" Ian practically yelled at her. "That guy tried to kill you! He tried to slit your damn throat, why-- he deserves more than the beating Lucas had!"

"Ian." Bea spoke firmly. "Ian. Calm down."

"No! How can I calm down just like that?"

"You're not thinking clearly!"

"I'm freaking furious!"

"I need you on my side as my brother, I can't have you losing your mind over this." She grabbed his arm to make him face her. "He'll get what's  _ his _ . Trust me on that."

"Should I?" He asked quietly. "From what I see, you're being far too kind."

With that, her twin brother stormed off as well. Bea sighed heavily as she watched him disappear outside. Skye, Ajay and Rory gave her sympathetic looks. 

"I have to go deal with this." She said to them.

Rory nodded. "Good luck."

"Don't hesitate to summon us if you need anything." Ajay added.

Skye simply nodded and Bea shot them three a small grateful smile before marching away. 

  * ••



  
  


Maria was already waiting outside the board room when Bea got there that early afternoon. The girl had a straight face on but when Bea glanced at her, she could see the stress and anxiety through her eyes. 

"Miss Maria," Bea greeted, nodding her head gravely. "How bad is it?"

"The advisory council was already inside." Maria informed her. "I must warn you, it's not looking good."

"I know. What do you think about all of this, Maria? Did he do it?"

"I-I don't know." Maria shook her head. "If he really did it, I'm going to be held responsible for not looking out sooner. He's one of the suitors, I should have taken a closer look on them."

"Maria, this is no time to blame yourself." Bea reminded her. "No one would have seen this coming. But we have to consider a lot of things."

"Do you think he did it?" Maria asked. "You saw the man, is it… is he like Noah?"

"I can't tell for sure, he was dressed in black." 

The older girl pursed her lips, for once, she seemed unsure of what to do. Maria wasn't prepared for the Selection to get this messy. She hadn't planned for an action in case any of these happens and watching it all unfold without knowing what to do must be stressing the hell out of her. Bea shook her head, gesturing the guards outside to open the doors for them and they marched in.

The council table, as they call it, was a long mahogany table divided into fourteen chairs made from the same wood. Six chairs on both sides and two throne-like ones positioned on both heads of the table commonly reserved for the King and Queen of Solari.

The twelve council members raised their heads once Bea and Maria walked in, already seated along with the King Father who had taken his usual place on the table. Their chattering dwindled into whispers and greetings in acknowledgement of her arrival. 

"Good, you're here." The King Father spoke, gesturing for her to take a seat so they could begin. "We shall begin."

A dozen pairs of eyes followed her movement as she walked to the other head of the table that a guard pulled for her, the same chair her father used to sit in. Maria stood on her side, giving her an encouraging nod before Bea turned to the members of the council who had been looking at her expectantly once she was properly seated.

"Gentlemen, honored members of the Royal Council," Bea started, making sure to level each of the men in the eye as she spoke. Frank, being the general, was there. So was her Uncle Stefan and the Duke of Lakedon himself, Rodger Crandall. "I'm sure you were all aware what this meeting will be all about. Last night, while the palace asleeps, I was woken up by the presence of a mask intruder in my chambers."

The men nodded their heads, all of them having heard what happened by now.

"Our general here, assured me that nothing was stolen, considering the wreck he left behind, but one thing's for sure, he was there to terrorize me."

"Latest development in the investigation and a series of evidence pointed to the first and our only suspect," His grandfather took over. "Noah Harris, a young man and one of the remaining Selected suitors staying in the palace with us."

"Sir?" One of the advisors raised his hand. "Do we have a motive so far?"

"Mr. Harris heavily insists that he had nothing to do with this attempt in the Crown Princess's life." Frank answered.

"But a glove and the same mask the assailant had been wearing, like the princess had described, were found in his suitcase," Rodger Crandall read through the files. "Is that correct, General?"

"It is correct."

"Miss Flores," The King Father looked at Maria and the members followed suit. "You are in charge of the Selected, right?"

Maria straightened on her spot. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Had Mr. Harris ever expressed any strange or violent behaviour towards the Princess?"

"Not that I know of, Sir." The girl replied. "Mr. Harris is a young man of few words. He was rarely seen socializing with his fellow suitors, always keeping to himself. But he respected the Princess, that I can be sure of. He had mentioned before of the kindness our princess had shown him and that was not something he forgot."

"He is one of the suitors," another member said. "He'd speak kindly for the sake of the show. How can we be sure this wasn't something he had been planning from the start?"

"Rumors had been circulating at court regarding Mr. Harris' stay in a juvenile center not long ago." Duke Crandall added. "We should take that into consideration."

"A rumor spread by his fellow suitors. A mere strategy in a competition," Bea pointed out. "I'm sure your son knows all about that, Your Grace."

The Duke regarded her with an unreadable look. "My son is well-versed when it comes to the laws in this country, Your Highness. His loyalty is to the royal family and the crown. Not to strangers and fellow suitors. After the whole thing with Mr. Thomas, it is advised that we checked these young men's backgrounds to make sure this wouldn't happen for the third time."

The members murmured their assent. 

"Investigation is still ongoing," Frank said once they settled down. "We will be looking into his life before the Selection. We will see if he happened to have ties with any of the rebel movements or any motive that had pushed him to attack the princess. Whether Mr. Harris is guilty or not, the truth will be brought to light sooner rather than later."

"I have been planning to oversee the interrogation myself." Bea told the men, causing a new bout of protests before she continued. "With the presence of the guards or the general himself, of course."

"What Mr. Harris did was treason." One of the members interjected. "Shouldn't we act fast and make an example out of him to show these rebels that they cannot just waltz in and threaten the royal family, much less our future Queen?"

"What are you suggesting, sir?" The King Father asked.

"An execution, Your Majesty."

"Not until he was proven guilty." Bea argued.

"The missing glove and the mask weren't enough evidence for you, Your Highness?" Duke Crandall asked rhetorically.

"Evidence can be planted."

"Why Mr. Harris? Isn't that a bit specific don't you all think?"

"We've been getting these attacks for years now." The Duke of Kent reminded everyone. "The King and Queen and the former Crown Prince have died in the hands of these rebels, we should be fighting back. We cannot let them keep charging in like this while we're waiting for them like sitting ducks!"

Bea raised an eyebrow at the middle-aged man. "And what can you achieve by executing an innocent man?" 

"He's hardly innocent, my lady. You said it yourself. He wasn't proven guilty, and he wasn't proven innocent either."

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, counting her breath before she tried again in a more reasonable tone. "What I'm asking for is time. I will talk to Mr. Harris. And I will know if he had anything to do with the attack."

"Like he would confess to his crimes just like that." The Duke of Columbia murmured in disdain.

"He will." Bea said firmly. "I will make sure of it. I will get to the bottom of this, not only for the sake of my safety but also for the sake of everyone living in this palace. We had enough deaths in our hands, we can't keep adding more by passing judgement without a proper investigation."

"I, um, I agree with the princess," Her uncle suddenly spoke up, smiling hesitantly to his fellow council members. "We're all worried for her safety, but I myself felt uncomfortable with the idea of an immediate execution in Mr. Harris' case."

Bea shot the man a grateful look. A few of the members shook their heads as if what he had been suggesting was purely ridiculous, talking among one another. The rest just stayed quiet, not wanting to take any side on this matter. 

"That man from last night, he attacked me. He threatened  _ my _ life." Bea said. "Only I will know who he is. Now I appreciate your suggestions, believe me, and if I ever prove that our suspicions about Noah Harris were correct, I will pass the judgement myself and without hesitation. I just want this investigation to go according to my own pace to make sure we won't miss a single detail." She stood up and met everyone's eyes. "Contrary to what you all have been thinking about me, I don't take kindly to these threats. Not on my life, not on my family and not on my people."

Her Uncle Stefan clapped his hands, smiling proudly after she spoke but stopped once he realized the other council members had been eyeing him weirdly. The Duke of Kent appeared to have nothing to say anymore and Duke Crandall looked unhappy from the way the proceeding had been going.

"You heard the Princess." Her grandfather finally spoke after watching the arguments quietly from his seat. "The Noah Harris case will be on hold for now until the general and the Princess deemed it necessary to take action. If you don't have any more concerns, this meeting has been dismissed."

Bea let out a long breath that she had been holding the whole time. "Thank you all for your time." 

The council members stood one by one. Bea looked to her side to find Maria still there, looking equally relieved. 

"Whew," she sighed. "That was intense."

"You have no idea." Maria agreed. Bea could even say that the girl looked a bit shaken. "I should go tell the others about the verdict. Or the lack thereof."

"Of course, you may take the rest of the day off." Bea smiled as Maria said her thanks and followed the others out of the meeting room. 

When everyone had left, Bea turned to her grandfather who had moved to his desk and was now working on some papers. "Grandfather?"

"Beatrice."

"I just… um, thank you for letting me keep the investigation going." She said quietly. 

The old man looked at her over his reading glasses. "Why are you thanking me? It was your decision."

"But you approved it."

"Did I?" 

_ What does that even mean? _ Bea stood awkwardly in front of the huge desk, unsure what to do.

The King Father sighed and leaned back on his chair, facing her. "I've been waiting for you to decide for yourself, and trusting you to know what you're doing. In a few months, that council will be looking to you on practically every decision for this country, Beatrice, and not everyone will agree to your decisions. We just had to hope you are right to what you were believing in."

"Right." 

The old man went back to his papers and Bea took that as her cue to leave. Bea stepped out of the meeting room in a rush to find Frank so they could talk to Noah in the dungeons. She didn't expect someone was waiting for her until she heard a man's voice behind her.

"My niece!" Her uncle Stefan's voice called. "Wait up!"

"Uncle?" She stopped, waiting for the man as he hobbled as quickly as he could to catch up with her. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were waiting."

"'S fine," he waved her off with an easy smile, despite getting a little winded in his attempt to run after her. "Silly old me just forgot to tell you before going out."

"Is there something wrong?"

"I just wanted to walk with my niece before I go look for my dear Danielle," the man started walking and Bea copied his slow pace, hands behind her back. "Surely she's had lunch on her own by now. Always impatient, that one."

She joined her uncle in the laugh. "Yeah, she can be that."

They walked in silence for a bit, the only sound in the hallway were the echoes of their footsteps and the thumping of his cane.

"Also, I wanted to commend you for taking charge in the meeting like that," Her uncle glanced at her with his proud smile. "The council can be a tough crowd when they strongly disapprove of your ideas, and you brilliant young lady, managed to shut them all up."

"Aw, uncle," Bea smiled, touched by the fact that she got him on her corner. "I haven't thanked you for supporting me."

"Me? Pfft. I barely helped. I think the council people don't take me seriously."

"I'm sure that's not the case." 

"You're far too pure to be surrounded by those stiff politicians." He shook his head before that optimistic smile went back to his face. There were times that Bea would see a bit of resemblance between him and their late father King Alan. Stefan's father and their grandfather were twins, so the two men practically grew up like siblings, a thought that warmed her heart. "But I know you'll learn how to deal with them. You just have to show them your words hold more power than theirs."

"They're still members of my council, my advisors, people who had been in this job long before I was even born. I can't ignore their wisdom." 

"You can if you know in your heart that it is not right. Implementing the law will be part of your job and law can be cruel sometimes. Still, they have to follow it, always by the book. It will be up to you and your good heart to see if you have a thick enough skin to stand up for your principles." 

Bea looked down, listening intently to his every word.

"I saw your father in you while you were speaking, my dear." He added. "You see, when he ascended, the council had already worked with your grandfather for several long years and they gave Alan a hard time at the beginning. Saying he had quite the sunny visions for our country, too soft for their tastes."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah." 

Bea laughed at the funny way he said it. "What did he do?"

"Gave a few of them an early retirement and suddenly, the rest were finally willing to listen."

"Wow."

"Alan replaced them with the ones he knew he could truly rely on."

"That's actually a smart move."

"He was the king, but still he knew he cannot do his job well without the help of others." They reached the Great Hall and her Uncle slowed down. Well, slower than he had been going. He looked around, searching for his daughter. "I suppose this is where we separate ways. Thank you for walking with me, my dear."

"I did enjoy it, I like when you tell me stories. Just like when Ian and I were kids."

"In my eyes, you and your brother were still my two favorite pumpkins on earth." Uncle Stefan grinned and Bea smiled before she excused herself. 

Bea hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and at this point, she doesn't even know if she wanted to eat anything. She still had to talk to Noah. Hopefully, the guards heeded on her request not to do anything to him unless she ordered so. 

  * ••



  
  


Noah's cell happened to be located on the deepest part of the dungeon. Meaning, she had to pass all the other prisoners before reaching Noah's

The dungeon looked a lot different than the upper levels of the palace, all with its gray brick walls, plain cement flooring and catacomb-style steel cell doors, but it was definitely well lit than a typical dungeon from the old times. The ceiling was lined with fluorescent lights in every hallway, making it less creepy. 

Frank was right beside her as they marched down the line of cells. She was glad to find that not every cell had been occupied but the ones that had someone in them would come close to the bars of their cell door when they heard them coming. 

"My Princess!" A man lunged on his cell door. "My Queen, please! I do not deserve to be--"

"Silence!" The warden barked sharply. 

Some of the prisoners were slumped on a corner, not moving and Bea wasn't sure whether to ask if they were okay or not. It felt like an hour, but Frank soon gestured at a cell door at the end of the hall and told her to wait while they opened the door.

"So it was true," a voice spoke behind her. "King Alan  _ is _ dead."

Bea whirled around to find a man watching her from a few cells down from Noah's. "Who are you?"

"Wes Porter, my lady," He gave her a mocking bow. Wes Porter had long unkempt hair, perhaps a result of having to stay down in the dungeons for a long period of time. A thin layer of hair and grime covered his face, complimenting his grubby clothes. His sharp green eyes stared into hers as if he had been trying to extract information just by looking at her, it was making her a bit uncomfortable. "My apologies, but I'm not sure how to address you properly anymore. You see, they don't tell us much down here. But I do remember the King had a young daughter. Princess Beatrice, if I'm not mistaken?"

She nodded a little. "You are correct." 

"Porter, stop talking to her." Frank warned, beckoning Bea towards Noah's cell.

"Long time no see, Walters." Wes said. "Still climbing the ranks, I see.  _ General _ ."

"Please ignore him," The General whispered to her, anxious. "They don't get much visitors down here."

"I figured." Said Bea.

They walked into the cell and she approached her former suitor cautiously. "Noah."

"Your Highness." He nodded. Noah sat on a narrow bed positioned against the wall, a bed with a thin layer of sheets and a single pillow. Next to it was some sort of a bedside table made of plywood and across the small cell was the toilet bowl and sink on the corner. "Come to check in on your prisoner?"

Bea sighed heavily at the sight. "Yes, how are you, Noah?"

"Never been better." Noah let out a bitter laugh. "This was quite the upgrade from my suite upstairs. Really classy."

"Don't." Bea shook her head. "Don't be like that."

"Like what?" He asked, finally looking up to meet her eyes. "Like angry? Like so freaking pissed? I sure am. You'll be pissed off too if they suddenly drag you all the way down here and lock you up for no reason."

"You can't blame them for doing that. Noah, they found the glove and the mask in your suitcase."

"And for the millionth time, I don't know how they got there."

"Where were you last night?" Bea questioned. "Please tell me you were in your room, sleeping like everyone else."

"I wasn't," Noah admitted surprisingly. She exchanged glances with Frank as the guy continued. "I was up until around two in the morning. I bribed one of the servants to bring me some smoke. I do that every few nights."

"And where were you hanging out?"

"That empty hallway in the south wing, second floor. I noticed there weren't guards there to tell me to go back to my room."

"Even you have to admit that's suspicious," Frank said. 

"Yeah," Noah averted his gaze. "And there isn't anyone with me to prove that I didn't do it."

"Where was your butler that time?" Bea asked. "Does he know you sneak out at night?"

"Not really. He was a deep sleeper."

Bea shook her head. "Listen, Noah. I'm not here to accuse you of anything--"

He scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"I knew it wasn't you."

The guy appeared to be surprised by her statement, the same as Frank. 

"I ripped one of his gloves off his hand." Bea told both of them. "His hand, it doesn't have any scars like yours."

Noah looked down on his knuckles and unconsciously rubbed the pale white scars on them. 

"You remember that?" Frank asked.

"Noah, you are the only suitor who didn't reach for my hand the first time we met and when I looked at your hand, I knew it was because you didn't want me to see them." Bea explained. "That alone left an impression on me."

"That's very observant of you." Noah mumbled. "Still, doesn't explain why you had me arrested even if you knew it wasn't me."

"Like I said, they found the evidence in your things. I can't stop the guards from doing their job unless I show them proof that they weren't yours."

"So in short, I'm still screwed?"

"Not yet," Frank spoke this time. "Her Highness just argued your case on the board of advisors. They were more than happy to execute you as soon as possible and you are lucky she managed to convince them to hold off for now."

"Thanks, I guess." Noah replied dryly.

"Noah, come on." Bea wanted to stomp her feet in frustration. "We're gonna work on finding proof that you have nothing to do with the attack in my bedroom but you have to work with us before the advisors decide that they want to see you hang."

"Jeez."

"I'm just asking you to be patient. Do you trust me?"

"I don't know, should I?"

Frank shook his head and turned away, obviously getting frustrated too. Bea was getting tired of hearing that same question. Taking a few deep breaths, she caught a glimpse of something slung on the general's belt. She snatched the Ziploc bag from Frank and stabbed her attacker's knife on the table beside Noah, making him jump. 

Noah yelped. "What the hell, Bea?"

"Do you recognize that knife?" She demanded, losing her patience.

"Like hell I do!"

"Watch your tone, Harris." Frank growled.

"Then you better start putting your trust in me if you ever want to make it out of this cell  _ alive _ and your name cleared from all charges. Do you understand me now, Noah Harris?" Bea asked. 

Noah looked between her and Frank then to the knife sticking up on the table before he nodded. "Yes! Yes, I do."

"That's all I'm asking. When I say I'll get to the bottom of this, I will make sure to do just that. I gave you my word and I take my words seriously."

With that, Bea grabbed the knife from the table and stormed out of the cell. Wes Porter was still looking out from his own and she saw a flicker of surprise when he noticed the knife clutched in her hand. She heard Frank ordering the warden to lock Noah's cell once they left and they made their way up the palace.


	14. Pathetic and Broken

The hallway was empty. No guards, no loitering nobles to see.  _ So why do I feel like someone has been watching me? _

Bea stopped in the middle of the hallway to look back, see if anyone followed her.  _ Maybe one of the ladies? A servant asking for a favor? _

But the hallway was empty. 

So she kept walking, trying to ignore the creeping feeling that a pair of eyes had been watching her. 

After what happened the night before, Bea was advised to head to her room immediately at night for the sake of her safety. She would if she hadn't been so restless, as if the events from the rest of the day were just catching up to her now. 

To lock herself up in her room means letting herself succumb to all her thoughts and problems which was really not an exciting idea for her. 

She heard footsteps behind her, light footsteps. Bea waited for the person to come closer but the steps suddenly disappeared and the hallway was back to being quiet.

"Hello?" She called. 

Her voice echoed back to her. Her eyebrows furrowed, looking behind her to see if anyone was there but so far, she was on her own. 

Something on the floor caught her attention. The evening breeze coming from the balcony blew in and a piece of paper fluttered a little from its spot on the floor.

Bea made her way over to where it landed, slowly, in case someone decided to jump at her suddenly. She checked the hallway opposite to where the paper was facing but it was empty too.

"You're scaring yourself," she whispered to herself.

She was jumpy all day, and she couldn't even blame herself. Now she wished she’d brought Vizmund along. If someone really had been watching her, she could use Vizmund's doggy senses to know if there was another person around.

She picked up the square piece of paper and saw there was something written on it. The stationary paper was the same as the ones they used in the offices for notes so it was hard to tell where it came from. Her blood went cold when she saw their family emblem had been crossed out and doodled over and read the words scribbled on the piece of paper. 

**You will answer for your family's crimes** .

Bea scanned the hallways once more. She was right, someone had been watching her. 

"Whoever you are, I suggest you show yourself now before I lose what little patience I have." She said, hoping the person would hear. "You wouldn't want to face me in a bad time."

No answer.

She clenched her fist, gripping the paper tight within her grasp. Bea stood once more, determined to ignore it. If their plan was to intimidate her and drive her insane with these stupid notes and little threats, they would be wasting their time.

Bea took a deep breath, trying to control the rapid beating of her heart. A part of her brain was telling her to stop testing her luck and listen to everyone by going to her room and just retire for the evening. 

Another part though, was a stubborn voice telling her not to let anyone dictate where she wants to go and what she does, especially not a stranger in a mask. 

She felt a movement behind her and Bea turned around quicker than the wind, her hand reaching for the hunting knife from her dress pocket.

"Whoa!" Erin Ward stepped back, hands raised up in the air in surrender. "I come in peace!"

"Erin!" Bea gasped, her hand on her chest. "Holy-- You scared me to death!"

"I'm sorry!" Erin's eyes widened at the knife she was holding up in the air. "What are you doing?"

She lowered the knife, her face flushing. "S-Sorry. I thought you were…"

"Going to attack you?" The alarm in Erin's eyes turned to worry. "Is that why you've been holding a knife now?"

"I-- yeah."

"God," The older girl sighed. "Last night really put you on edge, huh?"

"A little," Bea agreed, casually putting the piece of paper in her dress pocket before Erin could see it.

"Not that you don't look fearsome, but you don't hold a knife to a potential attacker like you're holding a bread knife." Erin remarked. She motioned for Bea's hand, the one holding the weapon. "May I?"

Bea wasn't sure what she meant so she nodded. The girl gently guided Bea as she raised her hand and positioned it so the tip of the knife was pointing forward in defense, instead of pointing up.

"A knife can be your sword." Erin explained. "Too short, I know, but it's still a weapon nonetheless. Think of it as a part of your hand."

"You're right." Bea smiled, amazed. The girl stepped back and Bea lowered the knife. "Thanks, at least I can look a little bit more threatening now than a bread knife wielder."

Erin laughed. "You joke now, but I saw you shooting arrows the other day. If I'm your enemy, I'll make sure you don't have a bow and arrow nearby."

"Eh," Bea shrugged. She made her way to the balcony with the other girl on her side. "I'm decent, I guess."

They leaned on the balustrade at the same time, letting the cool night breeze wash on their faces. The outdoor lamps casted a magical glow on the garden below them. Bea took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

"That's a pretty knife you got there," Erin noted after a minute of silence. "Is this part of a new safety measures thing? Carrying a knife wherever you go?"

"Oh, this?" Bea let the girl take it. "It's not mine. But I sort of kept it with me."

Erin studied the knife, fascinated. "It has a nice grip. Balanced. Do you know what this means?"

She glanced to the knife, the girl was running her thumb over the star symbol on the hilt. "I was hoping it would mean something."

Handing the knife back, Erin turned to her. "Is it really a good idea for you to wander these halls at night? At least bring someone with you."

"I'm with you, Erin. Am I not? But to be honest, I don't relish the idea of always having someone breathing down my neck all the time."

"There are people who want you dead, Bea," Erin reminded her, concerned. "People who would go to great lengths just to make sure that crown doesn't reach your head."

"I'm aware." Bea smiled sadly. "But I'm tired of being scared, Erin. I'm so done with being coddled with and treated like I might break at the lightest sign of danger. Will you be scared too? You're staying here in the palace. You were there when the attack happened."

Erin didn't answer for a long time, her lips pursed. "It's just me and my mother now, I have work to do and I don't have time to be scared."

"Just you and your mother?" Bea raised her eyebrows. "Do you mind if… I ask what happened to your father?"

The girl hesitated. "They, um… he died during an incident in our farm. He and my three older brothers. They were working on something and it got out of hand."

"Oh my god, Erin." Bea reached over and put a hand on the girl's arm. She didn't ask for more, she wouldn't want the girl to relive it. "I'm so sorry."

"You say that as if you hadn't lost more than half of your family too." Erin said.

"At some point, you just have to hold on to the fact that you're still alive and make sure to keep living for them." 

Erin mirrored the wistful smile on her face as they turned back to the garden below them, a comfortable silence settling in between them. The journalist excused herself after a while and Bea was left alone once more. 

***

After talking to Erin, Bea found herself full of an insatiable energy that wouldn’t go away. She couldn't stop thinking about the note she found, the message addressed to her. It bounced around her head, frying her nerves and making it hard for her to stay still. She needed a distraction, or a way to work off her pent-up energy. 

She paced down the hall on the first floor, not knowing what else to do. The guards stationed on every corner were probably hyper-aware of her presence by now. It wasn’t like she could talk to anybody about this: the suitors couldn’t know, and anyone who could know already did. Her brother was angry enough at Noah that she knew he wouldn’t listen to a word she said, and there was no way she was confiding in her grandfather. Grace was nowhere to be found.

Bea just sighed and continued pacing, stuck between wanting to hit something and wanting to go run through the gardens. She wasn’t allowed to do either of those things. It made her want to scream, but of course, she couldn’t do that either. She was losing the small amount of control that she had over her life. It was infuriating.

A knock sounded on the archway leading to the hall, making Bea jump  _ again _ . She whirled around, but there was no attacker. It was just Rory standing there, a worried look on his face and one hand shoved in his pocket.

“Oh, hey,” Bea greeted him. 

“Hey yourself,” he said back. “You look… frustrated.”

_ That was an understatement _ . Bea snorted. “Yeah, I’m a little frustrated. But I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” he asked. “I thought you might need a friend.”

Bea smiled. “I do, actually. Can we walk around the palace? I've been here a while now and nothing seemed to be helping. I just have too much energy and I need to keep moving.”

“Certainly,” Rory grinned, stepping closer to Bea and extending his arm. She took it, holding onto him tight, and let him lead the way down the hall.

Unfortunately, walking silently with Rory just wasn’t helping. She had so much she wanted to get off her chest, but she couldn’t say it to him. As the silence continued, Bea’s frustration mounted.

Rory must have sensed her internal battle somehow, because he stopped walking in the middle of the hallway. They turned to each other simultaneously.

“Hey,” he said, “do you want to talk? I can practically see the smoke pouring out of your ears.”

Bea shook her head. “I’d love to, but…”

“But you can’t,” Rory nodded. “I understand. Still, if there’s anything I can do for you…”

He trailed off, and Bea looked up at him. He was standing close to her, concerned warmth in his brown eyes. He looked soft and safe, everything that Bea needed at the time.

Before she thought about it, Bea impulsively grabbed Rory’s lapels and pulled him in, pressing her lips to his. 

She could tell Rory was surprised, but he recovered after half a second and kissed her back, his arms wrapping tight around her waist. She pulled him even closer, her hands going to his shoulders and pushing him back until his back hit the wall and he broke their kiss.

“Bea,” he breathed, “not that I’m complaining, but what--”

“Shhh,” Bea shushed him and leaned in again, pulling his head down so she could kiss him without having to balance on her toes.

Rory seemed more than happy to comply, his hands rubbing up and down her back. Bea lost track of time while they kissed, losing all of her senses and just focusing on this one thing she could control. Rory, his lips pressing hard against hers, his steady breathing hitching when she put her hands in his hair or grazed his bottom lip with her tongue. She could control this. She was safe with Rory.

A small gasp sounded from behind them and Bea pushed Rory away, turning around to see who was there.

Skye stood under the archway, frozen in place. She looked shocked, but underneath, there was something else. Hurt, maybe? Bea couldn’t tell, because when she tried to look closer at Skye’s expression, the redhead mumbled an apology and fled the hallway, practically running back the way she came.

Bea felt like she’d just had a bucket of icy water poured all over her.  _ What was I doing? _ She looked back at Rory, who looked bewildered, and her heart sank. She didn’t know what she had to do, but she knew she couldn’t stand to look at the utter confusion on his face either.

“I’m-- I'm sorry,” was all she could say, not knowing how else to react. Then she speed-walked away, the opposite direction from where Skye had come, not sure how she was ever going to recover from that.

***

The next day was Grace’s day off, and instead of enjoying the palace grounds like she usually did, she had been stuck inside her own head all morning.

It wasn’t her fault, exactly. Four years ago that day had been the beginning of the worst years of her life. 

She didn’t want to think about what came after the day of her father’s death, though. A year and a half of abuse at her aunt’s hand, then finally running away, nearly dying, and then being saved by the people she now loved as dearly as her parents. She’d even taken their last name, for God’s sake. Although that was more to keep her aunt from being able to track her down.

_ You’re safe, _ she reminded herself as her heart started beating faster.  _ You’re safe, you’re in the palace with people who love you. Aunt Mei can’t find you now. _

She rolled over, and her thoughts returned to her father. She’d been fourteen when he’d been shot on the set while filming. It was so sudden, Grace hadn’t even believed he was gone until she’d seen his body. But it was true; after her father’s death four years prior, she was officially alone in the world.

The words beat like a drum in her heart. Something that she’d always carry with her through her life. Orphan. Runaway. Outcast. Pathetic and broken.

_ Don’t think about that, _ she told herself.  _ Stay positive. Remember your dad how he deserves to be remembered. _

Jun Lee had been her father’s name, and he’d been the best father that a girl could ask for. Even though filming movies around the world had kept him very busy, he always made time to have a meal with Grace. Even if it was a midnight dessert, or a very early breakfast, or even a meal eaten over the phone, he had always made time to eat with her.

She remembered him bringing her to his hometown once, when he’d had a break from filming. He’d told her how Shanghai had once been one of the biggest cities in the world before the Chinese-American war. Many large Chinese cities had escaped devastation due to their infrastructure and mass evacuations, but Shanghai had been the first city in the war to be hit by American bombs. Millions had died.

As a nine-year-old Grace had stared at the open fields and quaint farms in front of her, she’d found it hard to believe that the town had once been a busy metropolitan area. But after the destruction, her father had explained, the Chinese government had done its best to wipe the evidence of the once-great city and the millions of dead off of the map. By the time New Asia was formed, it was like the former Shanghai had never existed.

Grace’s father had been born there, and as she was told by the townspeople. Jun had taught Grace Mandarin, which was the main administrative language and one of the official languages of New Asia, but the people in Shanghai spoke Shanghainese, so she’d learned that as well. After the destruction of Shanghai, he’d explained, the language was dying. He wanted her to help keep it alive, so it had become her native language as well. 

Grace still tried to practice Shanghainese, writing in her journal in the language both for security and to honor her father’s wishes. But she was losing the knowledge of how to pronounce the words after going without speaking it for so long.

She whispered to her dad now, the cadences and tones of Shanghainese stiff in her mouth from lack of use. 

_ I hope you’re at peace, _ she was saying, tears running down her cheeks.  _ I hope I’ve made you proud. _

Even though she’d fallen six castes from her former life as a natural Two. Even though she’d done horrible things to stay alive as an Eight. Even though she worked as a Six now for nobles, Twos that she should be on par with. 

Her father had thought the caste system was stupid, and Grace had privately agreed. But Jun’s outspoken nature was probably what had gotten him killed, so Grace learned to keep her mouth shut.

Against Grace’s will, memories of the months she’d spent on the streets, locked up inside her own head, flooded through her. Darkness flooded into her lungs, threatening to choke her as she laid in her bed, the drapes shutting her in.

She couldn’t take it anymore. Being alone was driving her into a downwards spiral. She’d been there before, and there had only been one thing that helped. One person who pushed aside her past and made her forget.

The feeling had drawn her to Owen then and it drew her to him now, getting out of bed and pulling a robe over her nightgown silently so as not to disturb the sleep of her nocturnal roommate, a night-shift laundress. Grace hated herself a little bit for being so dependent on someone else to distract her from her bad thoughts, but it was just her reality. She was glad he was back; who knows what other worse decisions she would’ve made in his absence.

The walk to the guards’ quarters wasn’t very long, and Grace knew of a lot of other servants who had been drawn to the privacy of the single rooms and the appeal of the disciplined, honorable, and well-built young men. Most of them had been natural Fives, Sixes and Sevens, and even though they were honored and paid as Twos now, the vast majority stayed in the quarters provided by the palace, uncomfortable with and unused to the opulent life of a Two. They were required to stay in the palace for the first four years of their service, anyways. 

Most of them, Owen included, still thought of themselves as their former caste. Even though he was a Two by profession, Grace knew that Owen still felt like a Seven. And even though Grace was a Two by birth, she still felt like an Eight.

She knocked on his door, nodding at some of the other guards who gave her a polite smile. They were Owen’s friends, other guards she knew well. As the Crown Princess’ lady’s maid, and the honorary daughter of Greg and Rita Williams, she enjoyed a little status in the servants’ world. 

Owen opened the door, and at once it was obvious that he had been asleep until she knocked. His blue eyes were foggy and not quite awake until he saw her, his eyes tracking her hair that was draped over one shoulder and the skin of her neck and chest that were exposed from the low-cut nightgown. His hair was rumpled from sleep and, most noticeably of all, he didn’t have a shirt on. Grace immediately saw a tattoo on his chest, one of a fairly regal-looking lion head, complete with a full mane. She pointed at it.

“That’s new,” she remarked. Owen smiled, holding out his hand and pulling her into the room, shutting the door securely behind her. 

“It is,” he said. “I got it when I was in the south. You can touch it if you want.”

Taking the permission, Grace ran her fingers across the tattoo, stepping closer to get a good look at it. It was on his upper chest close to his collarbone, about eye-level with Grace since he was so tall. 

“It’s beautiful,” Grace said. “But why a lion? Isn't it supposed to be a tiger, like the royal family sigil?”

Owen shrugged. “I like how it looks.”

Grace stepped back, suddenly self-conscious, and wrapped her arms around herself. 

“I’m sorry to disturb your sleep,” she said. “I can go if you want.”

“I don’t want you to go,” he said back, and Grace stepped closer again. Already, his presence was erasing everything else from her brain, focusing her thoughts only on him.

He kissed her hard, his hands grabbing at her possessively. She went with it, losing herself in the feel of his lips. The eleven inches’ height difference proved to be too much for Owen to make up for by crouching, so he picked Grace up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, taking advantage of her new height to kiss him back more fiercely than before.

This was exactly what she had needed. No bad thoughts, no bad feelings, just Owen and the adrenaline coursing through her as she kissed him, his lips moving down to her neck. She barely noticed when her back hit the mattress and he climbed up after her, holding her close and kissing her again. Wrapped in his arms, her hands exploring his chest and making a point to run over the lion tattoo again and again, she felt safe. Safe from the downward spiral, safe from having to sort through the grief and pain. 

Later, Grace was snuggled up on Owen’s side, hands resting on his chest as he combed through her hair with his fingers.

“I missed you so much when I was deployed,” he admitted. “I know I’ve said that, but… you just reminded me.”

Grace giggled. “Come on, I’m sure there are plenty of girls in Dominica.”

Owen laughed. “I’m sure there are, but I can honestly say I didn’t notice any of them. I was just thinking about you.”

Something sank in Grace’s stomach, and she suddenly felt anxious. Her skin prickled where his arm was wrapped around her. She tried to push the feelings away and kissed Owen’s bare shoulder.

He leaned over to kiss her in response, but before he could deepen the kiss further, his stomach let out a loud rumble.

Grace pressed her lips together and covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.

“You hungry, Navarro?” she asked. 

“I didn’t really have breakfast,” he admitted. “What about you?”

“I could eat,” Grace agreed. “Put on a shirt and let’s go to the kitchens. It’s still early, I can make some fried eggs or something.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Owen grinned, and sat up to pull his shirt on. Grace found her robe where it had been dropped on the floor, wrapping it around herself.

Owen reached for her hand before they left, but Grace pretended to be too occupied with a clump of dust on her robe to notice. She didn’t know why, but the thought of holding his hand made her uncomfortable. It was ridiculous, of course, considering everything else that had happened between them, but Owen didn’t press for answers.

Owen kept up a steady stream talking about the things he had seen during his deployment in Dominica, which thankfully meant Grace didn’t have to contribute to the conversation more than nodding and making the occasional sympathetic sound. The guards had their own kitchen, but Grace led them to the servants’ kitchen, not wanting to deal with Owen’s rowdy friends and their suggestive remarks and wiggly eyebrows. 

The servants’ kitchen was mercifully empty, which Grace had expected. She quickly cracked four eggs into a pan, pouring a healthy amount of oil to fry them with.

“Grace Williams really can do it all,” Owen remarked, leaning against the counter. Grace rolled her eyes but gave him a smile, even though she had to force it a little bit.

“I’m not Bea’s lady’s maid for nothing,” she replied. That was a safe topic. 

But maybe she was wrong, because Owen’s eyebrows went up. “You call her Bea? When I left, you refused to call her anything other than ‘Princess Beatrice’.”

“Oh,” Grace said, realizing her slip-up. “Yeah, I guess we’ve gotten closer. I should probably still call her Princess, though.”

“She’ll be Queen one day,” Owen reminded her. “Even if she treats you as a friend, she has duties and responsibilities that you could never understand. It’s probably best to keep her at a bit of a distance before she pushes you away.”

Grace bit her lip. Maybe he was right. It was better to guard her heart than risk it getting broken again, right?

She flipped the eggs over, the whites nicely cooked on the bottom.

She focused on cooking while Owen talked, a little about the Princess, a little about his new duties and things his friends had said about the palace, but then he cut himself off, falling silent suddenly.

Concerned, Grace glanced over to see Owen’s eyes fixed on the stairs. Grace looked, and a familiar figure dropped onto the floor from the last step, then looked bewildered at the fact that there were other people in the room.

“Ajay,” Grace said, so surprised she forgot to address him properly. “I mean, um, Sir Ajay.”

Ajay nodded in her direction, his eyes fixed on Owen. “Miss Grace,” he greeted her. “And…?”

Ajay looked to Grace, clearly expecting an introduction.

“Oh! Um, Ajay, this is Soldier Owen Navarro. Owen, this is Ajay Bhandari, one of the Selected.”

The two men shook hands, she couldn't help but notice how bigger Owen's build was compared to Ajay and how he towered over him a little. “Nice to meet you, Sir,” Owen said politely. “I’ve heard plenty about you.”

Ajay’s eyes flicked over to Grace before refocusing on Owen. “You must be one of the soldiers that was stationed in the south and was recalled after the attack,” Ajay realized. 

“That’s me,” Owen replied. “May I ask, sir, what are you doing down here? Is everything okay up on the main floors?”

“Of course, of course,” Ajay said. “I was just here to get some tea.”

Owen raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Tea? Don’t butlers usually bring that up to the palace guests?”

Grace shot a look at Owen, pleading with him to not ask questions, but she knew him better than that. He was even more stubborn than she was.

Ajay faltered, starting to look a little uncomfortable. “I… am rather particular about how I take my tea,” he tried to explain. “Princess Bea and I had a date down here where she asked me to teach her how to make tea the way I like it. Grace happened to be there too, and ever since my butler was killed, she’s been making my tea and bringing it to me.”

Owen just looked more skeptical, and Grace couldn’t blame him. The story didn’t sound like it was true.

“So Grace brings your tea, and she didn’t bring it on her day off, so you came down here to remind her?” he asked, a tone of disapproval in his words.

“Of course not,” Ajay responded, his eyes widening. “I was just coming to make it myself, that’s all.”

Owen pressed his lips together but didn’t push the subject anymore.

“So, Ajay,” Grace started, then corrected herself after catching a weird look from Owen. “ _ Sir  _ Ajay, sorry, is there any news from the upper floors?”

“Not much,” he shrugged, moving around Grace to collect what he needed to make his tea. “Oh, the Duchess of Angeles is here. The King Father greeted her this morning. She’s apparently throwing a party in a few days’ time, and she’s recruited the Selected to help plan. Most of the guys aren’t big on party planning, but I’m kind of enjoying it.”

“You sound like you fit in well in the royal life,” Owen commented. It seemed like a compliment, but Grace knew that Owen truly meant it as an insult. He had no hatred for the royal family themselves, but Grace knew he disliked the caste system and was less than satisfied with how people in the lower castes were treated. He tended to blame the higher castes for that.

“Thank you,” Ajay replied, narrowing his eyes. “That is what I’m here for, after all.”

Grace flipped the fried eggs onto a plate just as Ajay started boiling the water for his tea.

“Gracie, let’s go back to my room,” Owen said, seeing that their breakfast was done cooking. He stood up straight from where he’d been leaning, and nodded at Ajay. “We’ll see you later, sir.”

Grace felt weird at the nickname, but nodded. The sooner she could get Owen away from Ajay, the better. She cast a look at Ajay before they left, giving him a small smile before she ran to catch up with Owen.


	15. Quite A Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea, Ian, Grace, Owen and the suitors get to unwind for a night.

"Beatrice, honey?" 

Bea finished signing her name on the bottom of the document before she looked up as the doors to the study opened slowly. 

A smile broke to her face at the sight of the old woman who walked in, wearing a fine dress and a decorated hat on top of her curly silver hair. 

"Auntie!" Bea smiled, setting down her pen. 

"My goodness, dear." The old Duchess made a face while she looked around the otherwise empty study. "We'll be having a party and here you are, working. Is my brother making you work so much, darling?"

Her great-aunt Elle was the older sister of the King Father, the Duchess of Angeles herself. Several decades ago, the country followed a strict patriarchal system so even though she was older, their grandfather was the one to inherit the crown as the eldest son and became king. Instead, she became the Grand Duchess of Angeles.

Bea adored their great aunt. The old woman was way warmer than their grandfather had ever been. Unfortunately, she never had children of her own after her husband died of heart complications just a few years after their marriage and she never married again, living out her days for her people and dedicating her life for her province. The duchess had been living in an estate across the province on her own and would visit occasionally to check in on them. An inspiration for Bea, as everyone in Angeles loves her. 

"Just finishing a few papers," Bea replied, leaning back on the plushed office chair. "Is the party starting soon?"

"We still have an hour, don't you worry. I went to your rooms to see how you'll be dressing for tonight's events. Young Grace told me you got dressed early and went to the study." Her grandmother said, smiling at the mention of Grace, whom she had always been fond of. "My knees almost killed me on the way up. Thank goodness the sweet girl helped me walk back down. Now show me your dress!"

Bea laughed and stood, rounding the huge desk to show her dress to the eager old woman. The event for the evening was a simple celebration planned by the Duchess herself and a couple of her ladies coming to court. The simple being a humble term as everyone knew that a party led by the Duchess would always be sumptuous with no regards to expenses and consists of European music and dances and lots of wine. According to her, she wanted to meet the suitors and examine them herself. A favor she was more than happy to give Bea. 

Her great aunt gasped in delight as soon as she took in Bea's outfit for the night. Bea chose a charming black one-shoulder, floor-length gown with red-and-purple gradient tulle that seemed to flow like air whenever she moved. There were beaded silver appliques on the shoulder of the dress, holding up a long piece of lace with the same gradient color down one side of her back. The skirt of her dress smoothly followed her movement as she twirled, and the old woman gave a round of applause. 

"Beautiful! Beautiful!" The Duchess complimented. "What more? There will be lots of dancing tonight, that’s the perfect dress."

"You look beautiful too, auntie."

The woman waved her off, faking annoyance. "Not as beautiful as I used to be."

"Are you kidding?" Bea replied, taking her grandmother's hands. "I'm worried my suitors would rather want to marry my great auntie now instead of me."

The Duchess laughed heartily. "Let's hope not. This old lady is way past from all the fantasies and the romances at court."

"You can still throw your signature fabulous parties."

"That, you are absolutely right, my dear." The Duchess stood up. "Now, come! I have something to show you. I know you will love it."

Bea followed her Great aunt up the stairs, arms in arm. Their progress was slow, considering the woman's joints, but she led Bea on one of the guest suites on the third floor where the door was slightly ajar. 

She doesn't have any idea what the Duchess wanted to show her but the old woman's eagerness was contagious. It was the Everhart genes, people would say. Their grandpa Teddy must have missed it when he was born, since he doesn't seem to have a single enthusiastic cell in his body. 

"What is it, auntie?" Bea asked.

"You'll see." The Duchess pushed the door open and led her into the room, where a bunch of discarded dresses lay on the couch and the makeup case was left open on top of the dresser. 

She saw movement on the corner where a changing screen was set up. There was a girl behind it, obviously getting dressed. 

"Did you pick a dress now, my dear?" Her grandma called.

"Yes," the girl behind the screen replied. Bea raised an eyebrow, recognizing that voice. "I'll be in a second."

They heard a few crashing sounds, as if the girl took down something and Bea almost ran to check it. 

"I'm okay! I'm okay!" The girl said immediately, then stepped out from behind the screen, revealing Grace in an elegant black evening dress. 

"Oh my god, Grace!" Bea gasped. "You look beautiful!"

"You think so?" Grace asked, her tone shy and a bit embarrassed.

"You are a vision, sweet girl." Her grandmother agreed. 

Grace walked to the full-sized mirror and turned around. Her A-line dress was made from the same fabric as Bea's, except for the deep V-neckline and the sleeveless spaghetti straps on both shoulders. The black of her dress melted into a shade of cream on the way down, the fine silk of her skirt dances at the simplest movement. The girl's cheeks turned red, she adjusted the skin-toned tube top under her dress to hide her cleavage. "Uh, thanks."

"I believe your lady will happily relieve you from your duties for the evening?" the duchess suggested.

"You have to ask me? Yes, of course!" Bea smiled. "Grace, we are going to party all-night together. We will forget all these boy issues, and rebel scums, and politics."

When she turned though, Grace still had that uncertain look on her face. "My lady, I'm grateful for this dress, and the shoes and probably everything but I'm… I'm not sure if I should be going to this party like I'm one of the guests. For one, I am not invited."

"This is my party, and I say you are now invited." The Duchess said. 

"But I'm not a noble--"

"Grace," Bea gave her a pout. "Attend the party with me. Please?"

Grace's dark brown eyes moved from Bea to the old Duchess and back, sighing heavily before nodding. 

"Yes!" Bea cheered. "Now, your hair."

Her great aunt left them to work on Grace's hair to check if the guests had started arriving down in the Great Hall where the party will be held as usual. Bea knew that Grace could easily do her hair on her own but she helped anyway. For once, Grace's dark-brown hair will be down and not on its regular maid's bun. The curls would be running down her back and her curly bangs would be swept to the side. Bea also braided a little portion of Grace's hair on the side, using a bunch of decorated pins that matched the cream on the skirt of her dress. 

"Okay, done!" Bea smiled proudly at Grace through their reflection on the mirror after her hair and makeup were done. "Look at you, Owen won't know what hit him."

Grace flushed. "Are the Royal guards going to be there?"

"If they're not on duty. They're honorary members at court after all."

"What will the noble ladies say?" The girl sighed.

"You know the noble ladies love you. Besides, Maria will be there too. Dressed up and everything."

"Okay." Grace nodded, trying to psych herself up. "Okay, yes. We will party. Like there's no tomorrow."

"That's the spirit." Bea agreed.

Preparing Grace for the party must have taken longer than they thought. The party had started when she and Grace arrived in the Great Hall to join everyone.

Arms wrapped around both her shoulder and Grace's and Bea was relieved to find it was just Ian, dressed in a fine black suit with metallic blue embroidery all over that glints whenever the lights hit him.

"Ladies," Her twin brother greeted, giving them both an appraising look. He didn't even blinked when he noticed Grace was all dressed up. "You're both looking beautiful."

"Hey, Ian," Bea greeted back, raising an eyebrow at her brother's lonesome. "No arm candy tonight?"

"No," Ian grinned. "But that means I can dance with just about anyone. Girls, women, ladies… I don't discriminate. Grace, reserve a dance with me later?"

Grace rolled her eyes playfully. "We'll see."

"Awesome. Alright, you're just in time for Great Aunt Elle's opening speech for the night. Let's head inside."

Her twin brother walked in ahead, greeting ladies left and right. She and Grace exchanged glances and laughed. After the whole Noah arrest, Ian got mad and refused to talk to her for a full two hours before he went looking for her, apologizing for his outburst. Now, it was like they never fought.

"Shall we?" Bea asked.

Grace scanned the crowd of elegantly dressed nobles and guests, gulping nervously. "Uh, a sec." The girl grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter and downed the whole content at once. Grace took a deep breath then finally standing up straight. "Ready."

Bea shook her head and laughed, blending into the crowd with smiles on their faces. She was met with the familiar faces of some of the noble families and members of the royal council. The main theme for the night was black, accentuated by different colors depending on the person wearing them. Everything looked so grand and beautiful with just a hint of mystery, all the things that one could expect from a party led by the Duchess herself. 

Waiters and waitresses alike moved among the crowd in a steady supply of wine and champagne to put everyone in a festive mood. There was an open bar at the corner, and a long buffet table with layers of appetizers and desserts. 

They walked around at first, unsure where to find the old Duchess. Along the way, Grace managed to get herself another glass of champagne but she took her time with it this time. 

"Oh, God," the girl mumbled, taking a sip on her glass.

"What?" Bea followed her eyes and saw Grace was looking right to where Frank and Payton were socializing with the others. "What's with them?"

"Lady Payton looks like a goddess," Grace sighed wistfully. "I don't know if I want to be her or be with her."

_ Grace likes girls? _ She thought, taken aback. Bea took Grace's arm as they continued. "Pretty sure Frank won't let you take away his future wife just like that," 

"A girl can dream, you know." Grace reached out for another glass but handed it to her. "Come on, you're not drunk enough."

"I'm not here to get drunk, Grace," Bea replied, but took the glass anyway. "I'm here to greet the guests and make sure they're having a good time."

"Right."

Not even a minute after Bea said that, they came across a bunch of her suitors, Rory was one of them. The guy stood up, his mouth opening a little as if he wanted to say something but Bea steered the two of them another way, taking a huge gulp from her glass.

Grace giggled as Bea shot her a stern look, her cheeks flushing a little from the encounter. 

"My girls!" The Duchess's voice cried from her spot near the small stage next to the orchestra. 

Bea ran a bit ahead when the old woman spread her arm, wrapping Bea in a hug along with kisses on both cheeks. To their surprise, the duchess pulled Grace and an unsuspecting Danielle into the hug as well, the glass of red wine in the girl's hand almost spilled from the force she was pulled in.

"All my beautiful girls are here!" The old woman beamed. 

Bea was squeezed in against Danielle as they eyed each other. Grace was loving the hug though. 

After what felt like forever, the Duchess let them all go. "So, I met the lovely boys." Her great aunt wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I'm sure you won't have trouble looking for dance partners tonight. I myself was looking forward to dancing with that big fellow Max. Have you seen his arms, dear?"

Bea pursed her lips, biting her lower lip. She glanced at Danielle for help but the girl just shook her head and walked away taking a long sip on her red wine. "Auntie, are you drunk yet?"

"Drunk? Pfft," The Duchess giggled, waving her off. "You haven't seen me drunk, my dear." 

Grace giggled as well, even she had become rather giggly. 

They weren't even an hour since the party started. Bea looked around, everyone appeared to be having a great time. "Have you given your opening speech yet?"

"Oh!" The Duchess's eyes widened, pointing at her as if she just said a very brilliant idea. "I knew I was forgetting something!"

The old woman grabbed the microphone from Carson's hand, catching him off guard, and she hobbled to the stage with a colorful cocktail in hand. "Everyone! Everyone!"

The orchestra stopped playing and the guests turned, paying attention to the old Duchess on stage.

Her Great Aunt Elle took a long sip from her cocktail. "Lovely evening, my beautiful and dashing guests, it's been a while since we had a party just like this. But I figured it's about time we distract ourselves from all these attacks and assassination attempts even for just one night. So I encourage you all to drink your hearts out and enjoy each others' company for the evening," The Duchess gave the crowd a knowing wink and Bea couldn't help but face-palmed. "For a night of revelry, and fun, a toast for our great nation and to the future Queen of Solari!"

The crowd roared, raising their glasses in the air. Grace and Ian being the loudest. Bea did the same as everyone, giving the guests a brilliant smile as the orchestra started playing a loud upbeat song and everyone went back to whatever they were doing. A few couples went to the dancefloor, moving along with the music. Ian somehow found two girls to dance with.

"Oooh, buffet!" Grace pointed and made a beeline for the long table. The girl found a few of the nobles and they welcomed her with excited smiles. "Hi!"

Bea shook her head with a smile and let the girl go, scanning the crowd for anyone she could talk to. The suitors had been scattered all over the venue, so were the other court ladies. She spotted Brian and his parents having conversations with fellow nobles and she hoped Skye would be nearby. Sadly, she couldn't see her.

It had been days since she last saw the redhead. In fact, the last time she did was when Skye caught her and Rory in the hallway, making out. Bea wasn't sure if she had done something else but she couldn't seem to find Skye in any of the places they used to hang out to.

"Why the long face?" Someone asked. Jordan appeared, handing his empty glass to a passing waiter and greeted her with a kiss on her hand. "It's a really fun party, and to see the lady of the house with a little pout on her face seems like a crime at the moment." 

"Hey, Jordan." She smiled. 

"My lady," he nodded. "Would you like a drink?"

"Sure." 

Jordan whistled for one of the waiters, something that earned them funny looks and a brighter smile from Bea, and he chose one of the colorful cocktails. "I started a game with myself tonight. It's called  _ which drink is the strongest _ ."

"How does that work?"

"I try every drink. And I say  _ every _ . Judge which one of them has the strongest kick." Jordan motioned for their glasses and they took a sip at the same time. He made a funny face. "What the hell is this?"

"This is--" Bea coughed, unable to hold in her laugh. "Yeah, no."

Jordan took her glass and poured the drink to a nearby vase. "Right, we'll cross that one out."

"You'll be drunk before you know it." 

"It's fun." He defended. They watched the couples on the dance floor for a minute before he looked at her. "You okay, Bea?"

"Hm?" She asked, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be once I get some liquid courage in me."

"You mean that abomination they called a cocktail didn't help?" Jordan pointed to the potted plant. 

Bea laughed. "No comment."

"Honestly, what's wrong?"

She hesitated, but the look on Jordan's face was genuine concern. "I think I just drove two of my friends away."

"I'm sure that's not the case."

"I mean, I guess. One of them, he...uh, I don't know how to face him. And the other, I honestly have no idea what I did but I'm sure she's avoiding me."

Jordan stared at her long, as if he was studying her. He shoved both his hands in his pockets and smiled. "I think I can help a little with one."

Bea raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"There's this one redhead I saw," he whispered, tilting his head to a spot on the second floor balcony where Bea noticed Skye had been leaning on the banisters, watching the party going on below her. "You won't know what's wrong if you don't talk to her."

"I want to, but I'm worried she'll just… evade me or something."

"As I said, you won't know what's wrong if you don't talk to her. For all you knew, she was just having a weird time."

"Let's hope so. Thank you, Jordan." Bea said before making her way up the staircase.

The upstairs was less crowded than the hall below, a few guests chose to hang out there, chatting. Except for the redhead standing on her own a bit distance from the others, an unreadable look on her face that kind of reminds Bea of the Duke of Lakedon. 

"Hey." Bea spoke quietly.

Skye didn't turn. "Hey."

Bea joined her but kept her distance, looking down on the dance floor. It felt so familiar, like they came back in time when they didn't know each other much. "I haven't seen you around lately."

"I was busy."

"With what?" 

"Loner stuff." 

That didn't really make any sense to her. Skye seemed so distant, and she won't even look her in the eyes. Bea tried again. "I came over to ask if you'd want to join the others?"

"It's not really my thing, Your Highness."

_ Your Highness? _ Bea furrowed her eyebrows. It had been a while since Skye called her that. It sounded so strange to her ears. The redhead didn't offer any more words after that, her eyes remained blankly on the party below. 

"Skye, are you okay?" She asked worriedly. The cold shoulder was driving her insane. "Is everything alright with your parents?

"They stopped on caring what I do in this place so they don't really bother me anymore." Skye chuckled dryly and turned briefly to glance at her. As their eyes met, the look on Skye's face softened for a second and she sighed. "I'm really not feeling well, much less in a party mood. You go ahead."

Bea wanted to argue, demand an answer or two but she knew it would only drive Skye away. Her shoulders fell and Bea nodded, heading back to the stairs. 

"There you are!" Grace called once she reached the buffet table. "I didn't realize you were gone. Where did you go?"

"Saw Skye and tried talking to her." 

The girl's smile dropped. "You still think she's avoiding you?"

"I'm not sure what to think," Bea said, more confused than ever. "But she's acting weird."

"Can't imagine why." Grace shrugged, taking more sips on her glass. She doesn't even want to ask how many glasses she had by now. 

"What does that even mean?" Bea asked. 

"I mean, you two were okay, right? More than okay, if you ask me." Grace added, winking for emphasis. "Then she saw you that night, making out with Rory. So…"

"So?"

"So."

_ This girl is drunk _ , Bea just shook her head. She was ashamed of her behaviour that night, embarrassed, she could admit that but she can't imagine why Skye could possibly be upset if she sees her kissing any of the boys.  _ Why would Skye care? _

One of the suitors, Caleb, came over and asked her for a dance, which Grace happily pushed her on. For the next few songs, more and more suitors started asking Bea, waiting for their chance to have a dance with her. It was a relief when Brian didn't make much of an appearance that night, as if he had other matters to attend to, and Bea wasn't going to complain with that simple luck.

The Duchess of Angeles and her ladies watched the party from their seats, a set of red couches positioned on a raised platform close to the orchestra and the dancefloor so they could see everything. Every once in a while, Bea would see the old woman talking to her suitors, no doubt asking them casual questions without them noticing they were being interrogated.

After half an hour of dancing, Bea walked over to the couches and joined her Great Aunt Elle. "My lady."

"Dear, hello. How are you enjoying the party?" The Duchess asked.

"It was marvelous, Auntie." She smiled, leaning back to catch her breath. 

"But I haven't seen you have some fun. Does that have to do with your cousin Danielle," said the Duchess. "She seemed to have taken a liking on one of your boys."

She followed her Great Aunt's eyes and saw Rory and Danielle standing on the edge of the dance floor, watching the couples. Danielle was leaning on his shoulder, clutching onto his arm. "I can't fault her for that, Rory had always been charming and kind."

"You don't like seeing them together." The woman noted, eyeing her. 

"Perhaps," Bea sighed. "But it doesn't matter. Let's just hope Danielle knew the consequences if she keeps on going with this. Whether she really likes him or just doing it to upset me somehow."

"Ah, you two," the Duchess shook her head, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "For as long as I remember with you two girls, you always seemed to have a competition going on between you. Why didn't I see it coming that you will be competing over the same young man too."

Bea smiled at her. "It's not that, Auntie. I literally have twelve more suitors, and I know some of them can be as good to me."

"You're right about that." Agreed the Duchess. "I knew there would be some kind of drama to happen, I just didn't know I would be there to see it."

She laughed a little at that, raising the glass to her lips and taking a sip from the cool liquid. Bea could feel the effects of the last couple of glasses she had as it started to loosen her up little by little. As she listened to the happy conversations going on around them, her eyes fleeted across the dance floor and met Rory's waiting eyes, as if he had been looking right at her. Danielle was no longer on his side, and as they looked into each others' eyes, Rory made his way over to where she sat with the old Duchess. 

"Your Highness," Rory greeted, head bowed in supplication. "I was hoping you would care for a dance with me?"

"I…" Bea looked to her side, where her Great Aunt Elle was already nodding enthusiastically for her. "Um, of course, Sir Rory."

He gave her that smile, the one that never failed to make her flush or her heart to skip a beat, and he offered his hand. 

Bea took his hand and he led her to the dance floor, a slow music had been playing and the couples were dancing close to each other. Looking back, she couldn't help but laugh from the old Duchess and her friends gave them a little cheer. 

"She is a fun woman," Rory said once they made it in the middle, his hand settling in her waist as she put her hands on his shoulder. "Danielle introduced us earlier."

"Is that so?" She asked. 

They danced a little in silence, the guests surrounding the dance floor watched them with interests. The crown Princess and her favored suitor, they must be thinking. She looked over his shoulder and she found that Danielle had come back, annoyance on her face once she saw them already together. 

"Bea," Rory leaned down, pulling her close. His voice was warm, sending shivers down her neck and it was not in a bad way. "You've been avoiding me all night. Well, more like, for days."

"Yeah, I mean, no." Bea pulled back a little to meet his eyes. "I don't know, Rory. I'm just… I'm not sure how to face you after  _ that _ night."

He let out a heavy sigh. "Was I too forward? Did I… did I screw it up somehow?"

"No," Bea said immediately. "No, Rory. It was wonderful. You were good. We… were too good. I just felt horrible when I realized what I've done."

"Bea…"

"I'm sorry, if I was being too dramatic. I-I was on edge that night, Rory. I'm confused, and angry and frustrated and I just want a little distraction from all the things going on in my head," She said. Bea doesn't know how to explain herself, or if she even should. "Then you appeared, with that stupid charming smile on your face."

Bea scanned the guests, looking for anyone. Not that dancing close with Rory was bad, but she wasn't really doing a good job handling the situation between them. She spotted Grace talking to Owen over by the doorway, and the girl somehow sensed her looking and her eyes widened.

***

"Miss Grace."

Grace looked over, her cheek puffy from stuffing her mouth with the strawberry macaroons from the table, and almost spit them out when she noticed Ajay standing there. 

"Ajay," She tried to smile, but her cheek was just too full. Also, she couldn't help but stare at how good Ajay was looking that night.

He was dressed in a crisp black sherwani suit made from fine silk, adorned with a faux gold chain hanging from the lapel of his suit down the chest pocket matching the gold laurel wreath embroidered from his shoulder to the side. 

"Nice to see you dressed with anything other than your usual uniform tonight," He remarked, a ghost of a small smile on his face. She noticed his eyes moved down her dress before meeting her eyes again. 

Grace drank from her glass and swallowed. "Is that supposed to be a compliment, Sir?"

"I-I, um, yes?" Ajay replied, a bit unsure for once. "I mean, certainly."

"It better," she gave her a threatening glare, but somehow, it put a tiny smile on his oh-so-serious face. "Mind you, I totally rock my uniform, but it's nice to dress up from time to time."

"And how are you enjoying the evening so far?" 

"Are you kidding?" Grace looked at him sideways. "This is Duchess Elle's party, it's bound to be crazy from here on out."

Ajay furrowed his eyebrows. "Should I be worried?"

She snorted. "Not unless you're not drunk enough."

"Okay, you might want to slow down with that,” he warned.

"You, sir, need to have a little fun." Grace pointed a finger at him.

The guy watched her, amused.  _ I like his smile _ , Grace thought. It looked cute, in a confused kind of way. It was refreshing compared to the smiles she was used to seeing at court, most of them were either forced or just way too confident. It was a novelty to even see one on his face, since he always seemed so serious all the time.

"Hmm," he hummed, as if thinking. "Let's see how the night goes, I suppose."

  
“You’ll see,” Grace grinned. “If it’s anything like the other Duchess Elle parties, it’s gonna last all night long.”

A few of the other suitors showed up, and Grace took that as her opportunity to leave. She skirted around dancing couples, drunk people having loud conversations, and some of the court kids that were running around to go back towards the kitchens, where she knew she’d find Greg.

Just before she cut into the kitchen, she made eye contact with Owen. She faltered a little, his stare was so unnerving as if he had been looking at her a while.

Pursing her lips, she went for him instead, meeting him halfway through the corridor. "Owen."

"Gracie." His dark-blue eyes swept down her body, taking in her dress. "You weren't serving tonight."

It was more of an observation than a question, the frown on his face doesn't seem to match the admiring look in his eyes. 

"The Princess let me take the night off," Grace explained. "She's also let me--" She stopped when a group of waiters rushed past them, followed by a few more who rolled a cart full of expensive liquors. 

"Over here," Owen took her hand and led her over near the doors to the Great Hall, which was wide enough to fit two giant buses so they didn't have to stand in the way of the other servants. "The dress?" He asked.

"Yeah, you don't like it?" She said worriedly, unsure how to read the expression on his face.

There were a few guests who were hanging out by the corridor, the open balcony giving way to the cool evening breeze, a nice break from everything happening within the hall.

"Of course I do, I like it." Owen smiled this time. His hand that was holding hers let go for a second and he trailed his index finger up her arm, causing shivers and goosebumps on its wake. Owen cupped her jaw, his eyes adapting a certain glint that she couldn't understand before he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

On instinct, Grace reached up to his shoulders and clutched onto his uniform, pressing them even closer. She smiled against his lips, eyes closed, as she relished to the feeling of having attached to him. The alcohol and the energy brought by the atmosphere around them was making her giddy. 

After what felt like an eternity, they parted for some air. She was smiling from ear to ear and he was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered for him at the moment. "You look beautiful, Gracie. And it's awfully kind of her to let you borrow one of her dresses just so you could be here."

"She gave it to me." Grace corrected.

"Gave?" Owen asked skeptically. "Not a lot of nobles gifted their servants with nice things without asking anything back. I just hope it doesn't give you false impressions of a friendship."

Grace just shook her head and lightly patted on his cheek. "Owen, it's not. It might not be common for people in her status, but Bea is a genuinely kind person."

"I'm just trying to look out for your heart." He whispered. "It's been broken too many times."

"Aww," she let out a happy sigh, knowing his cynicism came from his protectiveness over her. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, you were always there for my heart. Now, are you on duty?"

"Not anymore, no." Owen shook his head. 

"Good," Grace took his hand and led him inside to the party still in full swing. They passed by a few familiar faces and waved, greeting them as they went.

Owen took a glass of wine from a waiter and took a huge gulp from it. Despite the charming looks that already attracted some admiring glances for noble ladies, he wasn't the most social person she knew so Grace figured he needed the liquid courage just as much as anyone.

They found a spot close to both the dance floor and the buffet table and stayed there, her holding onto him with his arm around her waist. Grace turned to him and he leaned down a little as she whispered in his ear. "I bet they were all wondering who's the very handsome guy with me right now. Just look at them. I can almost see them undressing you with their eyes."

"They can stare all they want, I only have eyes for this one particular girl and she's already with me." Owen laughed, his smile making him even more irresistible. Still, his eyes cautiously looked around and his smile suddenly dropped. 

Grace followed his stare, and it led him to Ajay, who was standing a few meters away from them with his fellow suitors Aiden, Robbie and Dakota. "You've met Ajay the other day. Do you want to say hi or something?"

"I don't think that's necessary." Owen returned her smile, but the glint in his gaze indicated otherwise. His eyes flitting over to where Ajay stood from time to time. 

Grace decided to shrug it off. Being in the army made Owen overly cautious and always on guard, so to speak, so she was used to it by now. A few more glasses and he will surely loosen up more.

She scanned the couples dancing in the center of the hall and found Bea among them. "Oh, look, Bea's dancing! Wait, who's she--?"

She met the girl's eyes over Rory's shoulder and the message there was loud and clear :  _ Help _ .

_ How to help, though? _ Grace racked her brain, looking around at the other guests as if the answer would float among them. For a moment, she was cursing the alcohol she had taken that was making her head feel so fuzzy. The song, a very slow and sweet one, would be coming to an end in a minute or less so she had to think fast.  _ Think, you unhelpful sluggish brain!  _

"Stay here, I'll be back!" Her eyes settled on a very unsuspecting Ajay and she ran to him before Owen could stop her, she tugged on Ajay's arm, catching the poor guy off guard. "You! Go dance!"

Ajay flinched, the other suitors looked on, equally surprised. "What?" 

"Dance!" She repeated.

"Are you… asking me…?" He asked, bewildered by her strange behavior. Ajay glanced nervously at someone behind her. 

"Yes! I mean not me," Grace replied quickly, she pointed to the dance floor. "Bea is right there!"

"I can see that. She's with Rory."

"So go, ask her!"

"I will, once the song finishes." Ajay crossed his arms. 

"No," Grace shook his arm. "You have to do it now."

"You can't just steal someone's dance partner in the middle of the song," he said incredulously. “It’s- that would be- that’s just impolite.” 

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Grace grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him over to the edge of the dance floor, not giving him time to protest. 

Ajay shot her a look of panic as she pushed him in the middle of the dance floor, just in time for Bea and Rory to take the turn. Grace frantically motioned for him to do what she told him to before rushing to the orchestra. 

"Sir, excuse me," She called the conductor, who kept on whipping his baton around for the musicians as he turned to her. "You'll need to change the song. Immediately."

The conductor slowed down and the song smoothly came to an end.

"Play something provocative," Grace added, shaking her head. "I don't know, just play something!"

As soon as she turned, a new song started playing instantly. The other couples in the dance floor were startled and stepped to the side, leaving Bea, Ajay and Rory to be the center of everyone's attention. The latter looked a bit dismayed by Ajay's interruption but backed off. 

The new song was faster, intimate with the compelling melody and a hint of sultriness. Bea was a great dancer, something she was trained to all her life as a princess so she knew exactly how to move with music as the tune shifted. Ajay looked a bit unsure at first as the two circled each other, the princess leading him over to the center with an encouraging look in her eyes that put Ajay at ease. 

Grace was pushed closer to the dance floor when more people came over to witness the dance, the guests whispering excitedly at the two and she couldn't help but feel proud. Duchess Elle and her ladies seemed especially captured by the scene, as if the party was on stand still, the conversations and laughter died down, leaving just the music in the air.

She was surprised to see how Ajay danced with surprising grace and elegance, his stateliness enabled him to adapt to the song and Bea's polished movement perfectly. A captivating mix that had everyone in the party in awe.

Looking to the side, Grace noticed the envy in Rory's face as he watched Ajay lifting Bea in the air that surely brought a beautiful smile on her face. The two were looking into each others' eyes like there was no one else around them and Grace realized she couldn't help but feel the same as Rory. 

Danielle must have seen the look on the guy's face as well so she grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the dance floor, surprising the audience when they joined into the song. Danielle was just as much of a skilled dancer as her cousin but there was a distinct difference between their movements, just like their personalities. Beatrice was all about the elegance and the sweetness like a swan, while Danielle moved almost like a feline, lithe and demanding attention.

Suddenly, the dance became a competition. Something that pulled the audience even closer. Their eyes flitted from one couple to another, undecided which one to focus on. Both pairs danced their best that even Grace had to hold her breath as Ajay and Rory twirled the ladies in unison, as if they had choreographed the whole thing beforehand. Grace followed the line of audience on the second floor balcony and spotted a redhead watching the dance with interest, although her eyes were trained specifically for one girl. 

The tempo increased as the song was reaching the end, bringing in more spins and lifts and twirls that didn't fail to wow the audience around them. The orchestra ended the song in a grand finale, and Grace didn’t know whose idea it was, but white light feathers fell from the ceiling along with it. She looked up and was pleasantly surprised to see Maria watching them fall proudly.  _ Of course _ , Grace thought, exchanging smiles with the other girl. 

Bea and Danielle landed back on their feet, breathing hard just like the boys but they smiled at their partners as they looked around the audience and the falling feathers around them, amazed. 

There was a bit of silence after the music ended, then a round of applause and whistles broke through the crowd. Some even pumped their fists in the air, and by the stage couches, Duchess Elle and her ladies raised their glasses in the air for the dancing couples and every guest followed suit.

Once the cheering dwindled down, the girls curtsied and Ajay and Rory bowed at the audience. Bea looked at Ajay with a smile and pressed a kiss on his cheek, and Ajay looked like he couldn't have been more proud for bringing that look to the princess' face.

It took a few minutes for the applause to die out, but once it did, the orchestra started up again. The song this time was more upbeat and rhythmic. A few couples gathered on the floor, starting up a dance in a specific style that Grace recognized.

Grace blinked and Owen was in front of her, his blue eyes gleaming alongside his smile.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, holding his hand out. 

Grace looked out at the dance floor and back at Owen. Ian had some noble girl in his arms, Rory was conspicuously absent while Bea and Ajay hadn’t left the floor, transitioning into the next dance.

_ She must really like him, _ Grace realized. She didn’t know why, but that thought made a pit drop in her stomach.

_ Never mind, never mind, push it away, _ she told herself. Her drink must have been wearing off, because she wasn’t thinking straight. She refocused on Owen and put her hand in his, grinning back at him.

“You absolutely may,” she replied, and then he led her out onto the floor.

Owen held her close through the first sequence of the song, lighter on his feet than Grace had expected him to be. The dance style led to a lot of jumping, and while Owen didn’t quite have the elegance required to lift her, he had a quick step and led Grace around the floor, leaving her scrambling a little to keep up.

“Your legs are too long!” she protested, and he just laughed.

“No, you’re just short,” he said, spinning her and then pressing a surprise kiss to her forehead, making her giggle. 

“You take that back,” Grace challenged, but all Owen did was wrap his arms tighter around her.

“It’s true,” he argued playfully. Grace just rolled her eyes, following his lead through the rest of the first part.

The steps that led into the second part of the dance required the couples to change partners, the guys staying where they were while the girls moved clockwise. One of Duchess Elle’s ladies would be dancing with Owen, but since Owen and Grace were right next to Bea and Ajay, It seemed that Grace would be dancing with Ajay for the second part of the song. Both Grace and Owen seemed to come to that conclusion at the same time.

Grace looked back at Owen just in time to see a flicker of anger cross his face, but he covered it up so well that Grace doubted she had even seen it.

“Damn, just as I was hoping to dance with you the rest of the night,” he said, letting out a sigh.

“We’ll dance again later,” Grace said, squeezing his hands. That seemed to mollify him a bit, and he managed to hold back a scowl as he spun her for the last step, sending her right into Ajay’s arms as he himself caught his older partner.

“Miss Grace,” Ajay greeted her, his hand carefully halfway up her back and his other gripping her hand lightly.

“Ajay,” she said. “That was quite a dance earlier.”

Ajay smiled a little. “Thank you, it was a lot of fun.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up winning this thing,” Grace mentioned. Ajay looked a little uncomfortable at the thought, and Grace remembered how they’d talked about Ajay’s doubts about handling royal life.

“We’ll see,” he said diplomatically. “I’m lucky just to have made it this far.”

“You’re telling me,” Grace replied. “I never thought I’d even be invited to a dance, much less be wearing such a beautiful dress and dancing with all these rich people.”

Ajay laughed. “I don’t know about that. If I didn’t know you, I’d assume you were another noble lady. Maybe one of Bea’s ladies, or the daughter of a Duke.”

“Really?” Grace asked, wondering if she really did fit in that well. 

“Really,” Ajay promised. “You’re a wonderful dancer.”   
  
Grace flushed, looking away from Ajay. Her eyes landed on Bea, who was dancing with her brother. The two were making weird faces at each other. Grace tapped Ajay’s shoulder and nodded over at the prince and princess, and he smiled too.

“This party is amazing,” Grace said, trying to break the silence. 

“I’m not usually a party person, but even I have to admit that this is quite an affair,” Ajay replied. “The only thing that would make it better is if you and I were having tea. There’s a distinct lack of tea here.”

Grace laughed. “You didn’t get Duchess Elle to include any tea on the menu?”

“She made me do decorations,” Ajay wrinkled his nose, looking a little offended. "It was a relief when Lady Skye volunteered to help with the theme designs and decorations building. It was all out of our depths." Grace giggled again, and Ajay took the chance to spin her. She settled a little more closely to him after she came out of the spin, his hold becoming a little more confident.

Ajay was looking over her shoulder at something, and Grace turned around, but all she could see were dancing couples. Most notably, Owen was desperately trying to fend off the advances of Duchess Elle’s lady, who seemed to be trying to drape herself all over him. Grace couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to like me much,” Ajay mentioned off-handedly, and Grace stared back at him.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” was the first thing she could think of to say. She turned a little red, and Ajay seemed to be a bit flushed as well.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that Bea said he was, and I’ve seen you two together, that’s all.”

Grace nodded. “He’s my ex-boyfriend,” she explained. “And since he got back, it’s been… complicated.”

“Feelings are weird,” Ajay agreed. “He seems to think he’s your boyfriend, though.”

Grace shrugged. “I guess,” she said. The topic was making her a bit uncomfortable. She knew exactly how Owen felt about her and what he wanted from her, but she was ignoring it in favor of just having an uncomplicated relationship with him. She didn’t want to be his girlfriend again, she knew that, but at the same time it felt so nice to have someone to turn to, to snuggle up next to, to kiss. The whole thing made her feel queasy.

Luckily, Ajay seemed to notice that she was uncomfortable, and he dropped the subject. That gave Grace a chance to think about what he’d said. Was it true that Owen didn’t like Ajay? There was no reason for him to be jealous. Ajay was trying to win Bea’s heart, after all. Maybe Ajay was just misinterpreting Owen’s personality.

The second part of the song drew to a close, Ajay spinning Grace once more. She looked back up at him and smiled. That weird envy was coming back, the strange feeling she’d had when she’d seen him dancing with Bea. Being so close to Ajay, though, it was hard to shake it away.

He gave her a bit of a crooked smile as they went into the steps leading to the final partner swap. Grace would be going to Ian, just to their left. 

“It was a pleasure dancing with you, Miss Grace,” Ajay said, sounding a little more formal even though his smile said otherwise. She realized a little belatedly that he was teasing her.

“You too, Sir Ajay,” Grace teased back, causing his smile to widen. Then he spun her off, and she landed with Ian.

“Ian!” Grace cried, breaking into a huge smile.

“Grace!” he replied just as enthusiastically. “Enjoying the party?”

“I think my drinks are wearing off,” she pouted. “I’ll need a few more if I’m gonna keep up with the Duchess herself.”

“Great Aunt Elle has always been a party animal,” Ian laughed, leading Grace into a series of dips and turns. Unlike both Owen and Ajay, Ian wasn’t afraid to show off. He was a lot of fun as a dance partner.

“You’re kind of a party animal too,” Grace said, panting once the sequence had finished. “Wow, those dancing skills.”

“Yours aren’t bad either,” Ian noticed. “Where’d you learn to dance like that?”

“My parents,” Grace said before she could think better of it. “I mean-- uh…”

“They must have taught you well,” Ian smiled. “I learned from this really old crotchety lady that our parents hired. She was so strict, always jabbing my back or my legs with her cane to get me to stand up straight.

“That’s horrible!” Grace gasped. “So what, you dance like this just to spite her?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He pointed his face towards the ceiling. “Screw you, Madame!”

Grace couldn’t help but snicker. “You think she can hear you?”

“Oh, that old bat’s been retired for years,” he said dismissively. “I’m sure she’s back to poking her grandchildren with her cane instead of poor young princes.”

“The audacity!” Grace said, pretending to be shocked. “And I’m sure you’ve never done anything wrong in your life.”

“Poor dance posture is a cardinal sin in her book, Grace,” Ian warned playfully. “Know that you’re lucky you’ll never meet her.”

“Oh, she’d hate me,” Grace complained. “I’m such a slouch. Always keeled over. I’ve never stood up straight in my life. I’m like the Hunchback of Angeles.”

Grace and Ian kept up a playful banter, squabbling almost like siblings in between dips and lifts and twirls. Grace eventually got exhausted trying to keep up with Ian’s showy dance style, but the song ended before she had to say anything about it.

Ian bowed to Grace, kissing her hand politely, and then Owen materialized at Grace’s shoulder and she knew she had to go.

***

Bea lost track of time between the dancing and the drinking, it was probably way past midnight when she stumbled to the dessert table to grab herself a muffin.

Technically, she wasn't old enough to take that much alcohol but no one would dare to call out the Crown Princess on it and her grandfather wasn't around to scold her tonight. It was the first time she had drunk that much too, the little sips she had before during parties never count if she didn't feel as dizzy as she was feeling now. In fact, their court friends never failed on refilling their glasses while they chat that even Danielle had become less infuriating. The suitors who decided to stick around joined the little circle they formed on the couches once the older ladies left to retire in their rooms, like Jordan, Michael, Caleb and even Aiden. Maria, after a lot of coaxing from Bea, was invited over too.

Ian and Grace became louder the more drinks they have, to combine with Michael and Lady Myra. Their little group kept the party going in between dancing and games.

Only when Bea felt the grumbling of her stomach and realizing she never had dinner that she stood and went to the banquet table to grab something to eat. 

There were fewer guests now, mostly young people since the older folks couldn't keep up anymore. She came across a few nobles passed out on some of the couches and tables scattered around the hall, extremely drunk and fast asleep, she even recognized Mason Jennings among them. Hopefully, his butler would come over and pick him up later on, or the servants would just have to wake him up in the morning along with the others.

Bea made it to the table, rubbing the drowsiness from her eyes as she went, and started a debate on herself on which flavor to get.

A hand slid on her back and she flinched when she felt an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her in. The harsh scent of bourbon hit her nose and she glanced at the owner of the arm, finding a drunk Brian grinning on her. 

"Well. Hello, Princess," Brian whispered, his mouth closed to her ear that it sent an unpleasant shiver down her neck. "Nice to finally catch up with you."

"Ugh," Bea groaned, shifting in his arms to push him away. "Not now, Crandall."

"This is a party," he said, pulling her even closer despite her weak arms' attempt to put a distance between them. "Didn't I give you enough time to spend with the underlings? I'm sure they'd understand if you disappear with me for a while."

Her head spun, in time with the nauseating feeling that intensified by Brian's sweet perfume as she had to lean against him to avoid falling over. He smelled too sweet, she wondered, almost like a feminine scent on his collar. Brian took that as a sign that she was going with him, his arms tightening against her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

"Brian, I can't breath." Bea mumbled distractedly. She wanted nothing more but scream at him, to order him to back away but she could barely focus on keeping her nausea at bay. She was afraid that if she tried to speak louder, her stomach would hurl right there. "Unh… unhand me, please."

"What, you don't like being with me?" Brian whispered, his grin doesn't help the situation either. "We'll be married someday, don't you think it's about time we get used to having each other this close?"

"Let me go, I don't feel well."

He pressed his lips to the side of her face. "I'll make it worth your while."

"No-- I--" Bea took a deep breath to garner enough strength to push him again, regretting it immediately as she got another fill of that odd scent on Brian.  _ Why does he smell so much like a girl? _ This wasn't his usual perfume, however she despised that one either.

"Let her go, Brian." A voice spoke. 

Brian froze, loosening his grip on her upon hearing that voice. Bea thought it was familiar, but her head was spinning so much that she couldn't put a name on it. 

"This doesn't concern you, Skye," Brian snorted, shaking his head. "You leave and go back to wherever you like to hide."

"Skye?" Bea perked up, looking past Brian's shoulder to find another redhead glaring at the guy. She smiled, pushing on Brian's arm to get to the other redhead and this time it worked. "Skye!"

"No." Brian growled, pulling her back.

"Let me go." Bea said a little firmer. She wanted to cry, she wanted to lie down and she wanted that spinning in her head gone but Brian wouldn't keep his hands away from her. 

She felt another hand, a smaller one, setting on her forearm as if to stop her from falling over. 

"You're drunk, Brian. You don't want to make a scene right here." Skye said coldly. 

"She's drunk too!" Brian pointed out. "She wants to be with me just as much as the others."

"In case you don't see it, she's not feeling okay and having you there is only going to make her feel worse so I'm warning you," the girl responded. Her tone dropped to a freezing point if that was possible. "Not even father can make excuses on your behaviour and buy his way to save you again if the princess herself called on the guards this moment."

_ Guards? _ Bea wondered. Maybe she would have called on them sooner. She felt another wave of dizziness wash over her and she pressed her hand on her forehead. 

Bea was thrown against Skye when Brian forcibly let her go, she looked over and he mirrored the same scowl on his sister's face. Bea could see the similarities in their features. The hair, the way they scowl and glare at each other, the freckles on their faces that she sometimes sees on Skye when she was looking close enough, but that was where the similarities ended. She couldn't believe Skye was related to someone so awful and appalling. Skye caught her gently in her arms and Bea let herself lean against the girl this time. 

"Fine, you can have her." Brian stood looming over them but the younger Crandall met the intimidating stare he was giving her. "It's not like she's any less boring anyway. But know this, I'm telling father about this and he won't be very happy with you."

"Go ahead, then maybe I can tell him too about you spending the whole night with Zoe."

_ Zoe? _ Bea thought that name was familiar. She raised her head just in time to catch the surprise look on Brian's face before spat on the floor and stomping away. 

They stood frozen for a few seconds even after Brian had disappeared somewhere. Skye looked at her and her expression softened that Bea couldn't help but smile from the sudden change in her look. 

"Are you okay?" The redhead asked, checking her all over. "Did he hurt you?"

Bea put a hand on Skye's cheek, the smoothness on her skin almost made Bea want to cry. "You're always there to save me."

"Oh, you really are drunk." Skye sighed heavily but her eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Come on, I'll help you get back to your room."

"I thought you're angry at me," Her bottom lip jutted out when the past few days of not finding Skye to their special places came back to her. "I miss you."

The redhead stopped, looking back in her eyes, searching. "What did you say?"

"I miss you," Bea repeated. 

"You're just drunk." Skye shook her head, putting a hand around her back to support her weight a little. "Let's get you to your bed."

Bea wanted to argue but her head was getting worse. She leaned against the other girl as she helped her up the staircase. 

"You really shouldn't have drunk so much."

"I'm okay. I'm fine."

"No, you can barely stand on your own."

Despite being a few inches shorter than Bea, Skye managed to haul her all the way upstairs with no problem. The redhead was no longer in her party dress, just a gray long-sleeved turtleneck sweater dress that fell down to her knees and her usual black leggings and boots. Her face was clear from any makeup too.

"You left the party hours ago." Bea noted.

"I did."

"But why did you come back?"

Skye didn't answer.

"Did you come back to check on me?"

"I…" the redhead opened her mouth, probably to deny it but Bea was surprised when Skye looked away as her cheeks reddened. "I noticed earlier you've been drinking and I wanted to make sure you…"

"You were worried about me even when you don't want to talk to me?" 

"Let-- Let's just focus on getting you to your room safely." 

Bea couldn't help but smile as she stared at the girl next to her. "You're very cute."

"I'm not cute."

She reached up to pinch Skye's cheek but the girl backed away. "Let me pinch your cheek!"

"No, Bea." 

"Come on!"

"Hey!" They had to stop in the middle of the hallway on the fourth floor because Skye had to keep Bea's hand from reaching her face. The redhead was smiling despite herself though. "Ugh."

A maid appeared from one of the hallways and stopped when seeing them. Bea ceased her attempts on pinching Skye and beamed innocently at the maid. "Is there anything I can help you with, my lady?" The maid asked.

"No, it's fine." Skye dismissed. The maid nodded obediently and went to leave. The redhead sighed and called the maid again. "Actually, could you please get a glass of water for the princess? I think she could use one."

Bea blinked. "I'm not-- not drunk."

"Of course, ma'am." The maid curtsied and rushed down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Now, we get you to bed." 

Bea put an arm around Skye's shoulder and they continued their way one more floor, her smiling at Skye the whole time while the girl kept telling her to stop doing that. 

It took them longer than they needed, but they made it to the fifth floor and the hallway leading to the Queen's Suite just fine. The guards straightened up when they saw them coming and their eyes widened when they noticed how drunk the princess had gotten. 

One of them, probably an officer, threw the doors open as she and Skye stumbled inside. The guards closed the door immediately and Bea collapsed on her bed, giggling.

"What… are you giggling about?" Skye gave her a strange look as she helped her take off her heels, which Bea was not making it easy for her, she couldn't stay still.

"Their faces," Bea replied in between. 

Skye shook her head but she was smiling anyway, dropping the pair of black high heels away then offered a hand. "Get up, you need to wash before going to sleep."

"No!" Bea groaned, burying her face on the mattress. "I wanna sleep. The room is… is spiney."

"You mean spinny." 

"Spiney." 

"I don't see any spikes." Skye pointed out.

"I didn't say spikes." Bea shifted on the bed and laid on her back, staring at the ceiling. 

"Clean yourself first," Skye insisted, offering her hand. 

Bea took it, but she used her weight to pull Skye down on her instead of letting the girl pull her up. "You sleep too."

"Oof," Skye managed to use her arm to prop herself up before she crashed on top of her. "What are you doing?"

"Your lips aren't black." Bea reached up, running her thumb on the girl's bottom lip. "They're really soft though."

"Bea…" Skye stiffened under her touch and Bea worried she said something wrong, so she looked into her bright blue eyes and Skye was already looking at her, confusion in her eyes.

Bea had really missed her. She missed having Skye around when she needed someone to talk to, or even when she didn't want to talk to anyone at all. She missed those times when they would just sit there near the fountain on the courtyard, or that place on top of the bell tower doing nothing yet they were the most peaceful she ever felt. With Skye, she doesn't need to be the princess, or the girl who needs to find a husband in order to be accepted for her crown. To Skye, she was just Bea. The girl who probably annoyed her to no end but still find each other when one needs to see the other. 

And she didn't have to lean so far, Bea propped her arm a little and pressed a kiss on the redhead's cheek. 

"Oh." Skye pulled away a little, staring wide eyed at her.

Bea didn't even realize her head had stopped spinning for a while, but it was replaced by an overwhelming need to close her eyes and sleep and she did exactly that. Before sleep completely took over, she felt a pair of soft lips pressed on her forehead and she let out a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song Bea and Ajay danced to: Chandelier by Vitamin String Quartet


	16. Carrot Ginger Apple Juice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Part 3!  
> This chapter: a hangover, a crisis of conscience, and a field trip

Bea was awoken quite unceremoniously from her sleep very early that morning, the last strains of the music from the previous night still playing in her head.

“Huh?” was all she could get out as Grace dashed over to her bed, roughly shaking her awake. Bea turned over to look at her maid in contempt, but was taken aback by how rough Grace looked. Her hair was falling out of its bun, dark circles under her eyes, her eyes still foggy as if she had just woken up.

“Grace?” she asked, her headache coming to the forefront of her consciousness.  _ God, everything hurt _ . The light shining through her curtains even felt like burning her eyes.

“They need you in the infirmary,” Grace said, her voice still thick with sleep. Bea realized that the girl must’ve been shaken from her bed just as suddenly as Bea was now.

Grace’s words didn’t register immediately, but once they did, Bea was jolted out of any sense of calm she might’ve had. 

“They what? Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” Grace said, pulling Bea up and grabbing her robe for her. “Put this on. No time for proper clothes, we have to go now.”

“What?” Bea asked again, still just trying to make sense of the information she was given. She looked down and noticed she was still dressed for the ball. A quick look in the mirror showed a clean face, but her nice dress from the ball was still on, wrinkled from how she’d been tossing and turning in her sleep.

“Robe,” Grace repeated, shaking the thing in front of Bea. “You can’t look hungover in front of the entire palace, especially not in last night’s clothes.”

“Can I have like, one second to change?” Bea said, growing frustrated. “Unless someone is actively dying or there’s an attack or something, don’t I have time to at least take this off?”

“Fine,” Grace sighed. “I’ll get you some shoes. Just be quick.”

Normally, Bea might’ve teased her maid for being so cranky in the morning, but her headache was so bad that she couldn’t focus on much more than simply taking off her dress and corset, smoothing the shift underneath, massaging her poor aching ribs, and finally pulling on the pink robe that Grace had shoved at her.

She pulled on a pair of socks and put on the slippers that Grace offered her, then Grace, apparently having had enough of being patient, grabbed Bea’s hand and pulled her out of the room.

Bea’s aching ribs screamed out in protest, but she swallowed the cry of pain. She stumbled after Grace, who had a terrifyingly determined look on her face.

They rushed through the halls and down the stairs, both of them squinting when they came to the main hall where no curtains blocked the sun from coming through the windows. Just outside the infirmary, Bea pulled Grace to a stop, nearly wrenching her own shoulder out of its socket.

“Grace, what am I walking into? You have to tell me what’s going on.”

“Do you think they tell me anything around here?” Grace sighed, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know. My roommate woke me up and told me that somebody said the Princess was needed in the infirmary. I figured it would probably be better if I was the one to wake you up rather than somebody you don’t know.”

“Okay, okay,” Bea echoed Grace’s sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”

Grace nodded, standing aside so Bea could go in first. The guards opened the doors for her, and out of the corner of her eye, Bea saw a butler that she didn’t know the name of standing by the doors, looking morose. She shrugged it off.

Instead of the rush of action and adrenaline of emergency that Bea had expected, she could only see three figures in the hospital wing. Her brother, obviously grumpy from being woken up but looking perfectly healthy, his blond curly hair everywhere. Maria, pacing around the room with an extremely worried look on her face. And finally, laying in the bed and looking incredibly distraught, was Dakota Winchester. 

“What,” Bea said softly, rushing over to the bedside. “What happened? Dakota?”

Dakota frowned. “I… last night, I got back to my room early because I wasn’t feeling well. But then I couldn’t stop coughing, and I…”

Bea looked around wildly for Dr. Emery, clutching Dakota’s hand tightly. “Did your butler bring you here?”

Dakota nodded.

“Where is he now?”

“Just outside,” he said, and Bea remembered the man she’d seen. 

“Bring him in,” she commanded Grace, who snapped out of some sort of trance and went to open the doors. “What happened?” Bea demanded from the man.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing. “Sir Dakota has been feeling weak for a few weeks now. I’ve wanted him to come here before, but he has refused. He’s also been covered in bruises which he claims he got from sports with the other suitors, but none of the others are injured. But when he came back from the party last night, he was coughing up blood, so I brought him here.”

Bea whirled around to look at Dakota, who was looking guilty.

“Dakota?” she asked, “Is this true?”

“I thought it was over,” he said, even his voice starting to sound weak, “But after I got here… and it came back… I wasn’t going to let this control my life anymore!”

“ _ This? _ ” Bea wondered, trying to figure out what was wrong.

“My cancer,” Dakota said, and the words hit Bea like a ton of bricks. 

“Your-- your--?” she asked, too shocked for the words to process. It seemed that her sluggish brain was making everything too difficult. Grace pressed a bottle of painkillers into her hand, and Bea swallowed two of them dry before looking back at Dakota.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. Um. Maria?”

Maria appeared at Bea’s side. “Your Highness?”

“Go get his doctor, and then call his parents. Start arranging for them to fly over here.”

Maria nodded and disappeared through a door. Not long after, Dr. Emery swished through the doors, also looking like she was run ragged.

“Your Highnesses,” she greeted both the prince and princess. “Sir Dakota. We did the blood count, and it looks very much like a relapse of your leukemia.”

Dakota sagged in the bed, his expression growing even more distraught. “I knew it,” he whispered.

Bea just covered her face and took a few deep breaths, not really knowing how to sort through all the emotions coursing through her.

Ian chimed in, looking a little less sleepy. “How did you hide that for so long?” he asked.

“I’m used to the pain and the weakness,” Dakota explained. “I didn’t want to think my cancer was coming back. Who would? I just wanted to live my life while I could, maybe even win over the princess.”

“You make that sound like you’re going to die,” Bea said from behind her hands. She looked up at Dr. Emery. “Is he going to die?” She felt like she wanted to scream the words, but managed to only let a few wobbles into her voice as she spoke.

“I’m not an oncologist,” the doctor explained. “He needs to go to the hospital and be treated by specialists.”

“No,” Dakota tried to protest. “I don’t want to go back there. Please, can’t I just stay here while I get my treatment?”

Dr. Emery looked at him sympathetically, but shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Mr. Winchester. I simply don’t have the equipment and expertise to treat you. But with the princess’ approval, we can send you to the best hospital in the country.”

“Of course you have my approval,” Bea said immediately. “Absolutely. Anything I can do. We have to get you the best treatment possible.”

"Does this mean you're taking me out of the competition?" Dakota asked. The fact that he just confirmed that his cancer came back was nothing compared to the look of devastation on his face. "I-- Bea…"

"Dakota, you have to do this," Bea said. She couldn't bear to see him like that. Over the course of the Selection, she had grown fond of her suitors. Even though she didn't have any romantic feelings for most of them, she knew a friendship was somehow growing from there. "You recovered from this before, I believe you can fight it again."

"But?"

"But you can't do that while you're in the Selection. I know how stressed you all have been, you can't take care of yourself between all that."

"I think you should listen to her, Dakota," Maria added, her tone was gentle. "She's not sending you away for nothing."

"Yeah, man," Ian agreed. "Get better, then come back and visit us here to tell us you beat the hell out of cancer."

Bea sat on the edge of his bed. "You're always welcome here."

"I…" Dakota gulped, his eyes turning red, and Bea hoped he wouldn't cry right there or it would make her cry too. In the end, he nodded. "I'll try my best."

"Yes, please," Bea smiled, encouraging. "Do I have to make that an order?"

"No, it's-- It's loud and clear."

Ian stepped close to the bed and offered his hand, which Dakota shook with a smile despite the redness in his eyes. 

And just like that, there were only twelve suitors left. Still a lot, but Bea realized how fast everything had happened. One minute they were only talking about planning it, and the next thing she knew, she already sent more than half of them home. Bea scooted a little closer and pressed a light kiss on top of Dakota’s mop of brown hair before she stood and let Dr. Emery report her findings regarding Dakota's illness. Maria came over to tell her that she had called his parents and told them what happened, then proceeded in coordinating with the doctor regarding the travel arrangements for the patient and his family.

"Oh, god," Ian groaned once they stepped out of the infirmary. He rubbed both of his temples, shutting his eyes. "That was way too heavy."

"I know," Bea murmured, crossing her arms over her chest as they walked in slow pace with Grace. "How are you two feeling?"

"Horrible," Ian and Grace said unison.

She nodded. "Me too. I don't even remember going back to my room."

"I didn't even know you left," Grace countered. "I was passed out on the couch with Ian and the others until Owen came over to pick me up. He wasn't very happy."

There was a throbbing in her head, and as much as she fought the urge to rub her temples too, she couldn't help it. "I need something for this headache. Preferably breakfast too."

The other two mumbled their agreement and the three of them made their way to the only place they knew they could get a greasy meal.

***

Greg slid three glasses of some strange drinks in front of them with an innocent smile. Bea and Ian stared down at their glasses of thick reddish liquid, trying to sniff the flavor. 

"What is this?" Bea asked, wrinkling her nose. "Why does it look like this?"

"That's carrot ginger apple juice," Greg answered proudly.

Grace sucked in a breath and downed the whole glass in one drinking, once she was done, she made a face and wiped her lips. "Jeez. Okay. It's supposed to be his special hangover drink. Fair warning, it tastes disgusting. But it's effective as hell."

Greg gestured for their glasses. "Go on, give it a try."

They looked from him to Rita, who had been leaning against the counter with arms crossed and a stern look on her face. "Hopefully, the horrible taste would encourage you not to get drunk like that."

The three of them exchanged glances. 

"Hey!" Greg looked offended. "You think it's horrible too? I thought you love it!"

"I--" Rita looked around guiltily and shook her head. "What really matters is that maybe they'll learn not to get wasted like that."

"Uh, okay. Here goes." Ian shrugged. She watched her twin brother take a sip from the drink then followed it up with a few more until he was halfway through his glass. He looked up at the couple grinning. "That wasn't so bad. I actually like it!"

Greg grinned back and turned to his wife proudly. "I told you it's delicious."

Bea stared down on her glass, swallowing nervously, but the headache didn't seem to plan on going away any time soon and she knew she couldn't go and face her grandfather like that so she took a tentative sip and immediately felt like retching. "What-- this is--"

"Just take one more, dear," Greg encouraged. "The taste will grow on you."

Grace laughed. "Sure."

"Ugh, why are you doing this to me?" She gave the couple a pleading look. 

"Do you want to feel better?" Rita asked.

"Why does it have to taste like this?"

"Just finish it," Grace picked up the glass and held it up. "In one take. You don't have to really taste it."

Bea held the glass in one hand and let Grace tip it over slowly, swallowing and ignoring the taste as it went down her throat. She shut her eyes as the last drops passed her tongue, shaking her head. "Okay. Done. That better help."

"Good. Now breakfast." Greg grinned and turned to face the stove.

The three of them relaxed marginally once Rita left to help him cook. It was just the five of them in the servant's kitchen since the main one was busy with the kitchen staff preparing breakfast for everyone upstairs, some of them would pass by to look on surprised to see the Crown Princess and her twin brother the prince sitting on the counter like regular people.

Turned out, Rita wasn't done scolding them for partying the previous night until they passed out. Bea couldn't blame her, she doesn't even know why she was convinced to drink that much. She should have expected it to feel as bad as she heard it was. 

Greg's concoction started to take effect and she had to agree it was helping little by little. Still, her eyes were hurting and she just wanted to lay down all day. She doesn't remember if she had enough sleep or what time she managed to get to bed, she was still trying to recall how she made it back all the way to the fifth floor on her own.

After their breakfast in the servant's kitchen, Bea and Grace went back to her suite to prepare her for the day. 

The Great Hall had been cleaned and the guests who passed out during the party must have been sent to their quarters or just woke up on their own.

As she walked to the study to start her work for the day, she couldn't help but notice the tired look on everyone's faces. Whether it was a servant or a noble, last night's party somehow got to them one way or another. 

Vizmund was at her side now, Ian walked him earlier around the grounds to clear his head from the remnants of his hangover and the dog seemed more than happy to spend work time with her.

Her grandfather was already working by the time she got there, an empty cup of coffee sat on his desk next to the royal seal stamp.

"Good morning, Grandfather." She greeted quietly, afraid to look him in the eye in case he'd see through her hangover.

"Morning, Beatrice," he replied back, surprising her. The old man pointed to her desk. "I left the updated copies of the documents regarding this year's trade treaties for you to read. Tell me what you think about them."

"I will, thank you." Bea headed to her desk once her grandfather hummed in agreement. 

There were very few servants who were allowed to come inside the King's study, only the ones they truly trust like Grace and some of the older servants who had worked in the Palace all their lives. There were documents and important papers that most people weren't allowed to see or have the risk of getting stolen or destroyed, so they had to keep the access to it to a small number of people.

Grace herself was the only one allowed to clean her desk, but most of the time, Bea would leave it tidy so the girl wouldn’t have to add it to her daily tasks as her lady's maid, which was a lot considering she was the crown princess.

Bea pored over the documents for hours, Vizmund chewing a toy in a spot on the floor next to her chair. From time to time, his ears would perk up when someone was coming, signalling Bea that they would be having company.

It was only her and the King Father working quietly on their desk for hours, so she waited for the doors to open when Vizmund suddenly looked up from his toy.

Frank entered when the guards outside opened the doors for him, a grave look on his face. The general bowed at the two of them and Bea watched as he whispered something to her grandfather's face, the old man immediately raising his eyebrows from whatever he told him.

"Is everything alright?" She asked hesitantly, studying her grandfather's face.

"It appears," The King Father paused, sighing heavily. "That the city capital of Honduragua was attacked first thing in the morning, by a group of armed men."

"Oh my god," Bea straightened back on her chair. "Is… is anyone…?"

"Their Duke already sent his men to rescue the people." Frank told her. "Dozens were injured, though they haven't reported any casualties, Your Highness."

Bea let out a little sigh of relief. "Do I sense a but coming next?"

Frank exchanged glances to the King Father before speaking. "The rebels burned down the residential area of the city. Unfortunately, more than a hundred families lost their houses, businesses and properties from the fire."

She felt her hand start to shake, there was a pounding in her chest that she could barely hear over her thoughts. "Tell me you already sent help."

"Honduragua is more than capable of helping its own people." The King Father said.

"Then what can we do?"

Frank stayed silent. Her grandfather went back to his papers like it doesn't bother him at all.

"Grandfather, what can we do?" Bea repeated louder. "We can't just sit here and--"

"That's exactly what you will do." The old man said. "Each province has their own duchies who will handle such situations and if they can't, they'll ask for it."

"People just lost their houses, aren't you a little worried they'll end up on the streets as Eights?"

"That would be up to them, Beatrice."

"They didn't choose for their houses to be burned down. That's hardly up to them!"

"Don't raise your voice on me, girl." The King Father glared. "You know nothing about these attacks. They've been happening all your life."

_ All her life? _ Bea looked at Frank, who refused to look her in the eye. "What about the people? I… I need to do something for them."

"You will. You'll sit right there and finish your work so you'll learn how to be a responsible leader someday."

Bea frowned his way. She couldn't begin to imagine how the people might be feeling after what happened, the children. She racked her brain for something, anything she could do for them. Honduragua was one of the provinces in the country struggling financially, so she was worried how their government could help so many get back to their feet. 

"That is all, General." The King Father dismissed Frank.

Frank gave her a sympathetic glance before turning to leave. Bea was left staring at the papers in front of her, suddenly she lost interest in reading them. Her mind filled with ideas and things she should do. Reading international treaties when families just lost their homes started to feel stupid.

Bea heard a whimper from her side and noticed Vizmund looking up at her, as if the dog could understand the internal struggle she was in. She reached down, scratching the back of his ears. "It will be okay, Vizmund. We'll think of something."

If only she could just fly out there, it would only take a few hours but she knew no one in the palace would let her set foot outside the gates.

At lunch, her Great Aunt Elle summoned her and Grace to have a meal together by the balcony overlooking the lake. Danielle already made plans with the other ladies, so she didn't make it.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" The Duchess asked after a few minutes of silence.

Bea looked up from the half-eaten food on her plate. "Hm?"

She tried to, she really did, but she just couldn't enjoy her meal now that was made even more aware that the people in Honduragua, or in every province actually, weren't eating enough. The old woman had always been perceptive, but it doesn't need a perceptive person to see that something had been bothering her. Grace looked over as well, interested in what she would say. She knew Grace had noticed it too, she just didn't ask.

"The situation in Honduragua." She bit her lip, looking at the old woman. 

The Duchess wasn't surprised. "So you've heard about that."

"What happened?" Grace asked, confused.

"The capital city of Honduragua was attacked before sunrise. They burned down a good portion of the residential areas."

"Oh, God. Are the people okay?"

"Frank just updated me about the situation over there. Some of the missing people during the fire were found dead, probably for resisting against the rebels or got caught up in the fire, and there's always the number of injuries and millions worth of properties turned into ashes, not mention--"

"The people who lost their homes." Grace added, dropping her spoon and fork as if the food suddenly lost their taste as well.

"Yeah, I highly doubt they would be able to recover from this easily. Not all of them."

"Indeed," The Duchess agreed. "Did you talk to your grandfather regarding the actions we can take?"

"I wanted to do something, but grandfather insists they have enough to meet the needs of their people."

"Of course, he would say that." The old woman shook her head. "I'm not sure if he was trying to make himself believe that Honduragua will be rising up any time soon or he just gave up altogether."

"Is there anything I can do, Auntie?"

The Duchess trained her solemn stare as she took a sip of her wine. "What do you think you can do, dear? What do you want to do?"

"Anything!" Bea looked up at the blue sky above them. The balcony was surrounded by palm trees so they didn't need an umbrella to keep the sun from them. "Even better if I could fly out there. I want to see them with my own eyes, so I'll know how to help the people."

Grace stared at her, an unreadable look on her face. "You can't be out there, Bea. It's far too dangerous for a princess."

"I don't need to be a homeless person to know it's dangerous to stay out there on the streets too, and knowing you no longer have a home to take shelter in. I was hoping to prevent more people from knowing how that would feel like. Think about the children, Grace."

The girl opened her mouth to argue but whatever she wanted to say must have caught in her throat.

"You were not forbidden to travel, per se," The Duchess said. "Hell, you can fly anywhere you want in the world as long as you stay away from the war in New Asia. You're the princess, but it's always advisable for you to stay within the grounds as long as these rebels roam the country like this. You certainly have the drive to help there, darling," her Great Aunt pointed a silver spoon at her before scooping a bite from her chocolate mousse. "But don't get me wrong though, Theodore will have the Royal Army to block the gates before you even think about sneaking out."

"Yeah, that's… that's what I thought." Bea sighed.

"I do have one of the military helicopters leaving before sunrise to send and drop supplies to my dear friend, Duke Alvarez."

"You do?" She looked up.

"He's a long time friend of mine, so it's impossible not to worry when his province is being challenged by tragedies."

"You can't just let them lose their homes, Bea." Grace spoke, her voice sounding shaky. "I'm sure there are ways we could help."

"If you ask me, my dear," her great aunt added quickly, setting a hand on top of Bea's. "Times like this, the people could use some boost in their morale. They'd need someone to put their trust in, to reassure them that everything will be okay. Who else do you think can give all of that to them? You know what you have to do, and I know you want nothing more than to do just that for your people."

"You said it yourself, Auntie, my grandfather won't be allowing me to go anywhere that is not within the grounds. Possibly not ever."

"I love my brother, I truly do, but there are times that he'd rather turn a blind eye on the real problems in this country. I was hoping you won't do the same." The Duchess gave her a smile. "You didn't hear this from me, my dear, but a certain helicopter will be waiting on the field by five in the morning. Just say your word."

_ Wait, what? _ Her eyes widened, but the old woman didn't offer any more words saved for a knowing wink before turning to her desserts. When Bea turned to Grace, the girl had been studying her closely.

***

  
  


"Would you go with me, Vizmund?" Bea asked, twirling the freshly-picked white rose between her fingers. "If say… I decided to fly out there and see Honduragua in person?"

The dog strutted ahead of her, his tail wagging behind him. Needless to say, he didn't say anything back and as terrifying as it might be to hear a dog respond with words, Bea could really use a different voice of reason at the moment as she pondered over the conversation she had with her great aunt during lunch. 

Usually, Grace would give her some advice or let her talk and figure out what to do, but the girl had been awfully quiet after she heard about the situation down South and Bea thought it must be the hangover they were all suffering from. She’d disappeared earlier, claiming to be taking Bea’s laundry down to the laundresses. Maybe she needed another dose of the carrot-ginger-apple juice.

Bea sunk her fingers into Vizmund’s fur. When Grace had left, Bea had given her two notes to deliver to two specific people. She guessed she’d see what they had to say in a bit; she knew they were in their history class right now. But she had a more important errand to run first.

Bea held the rose out to Vizmund, who took it gently in his mouth and ran ahead of Bea once they arrived at the right hallway. He practically sprinted to the courtyard, disappearing through the swinging door.

Bea followed at a more reasonable pace, her hands shaking from nerves.  _ Why are you so worried? _ she asked herself. No answer was particularly forthcoming, besides just the memory of the look on Skye’s face when she’d caught Bea and Rory in the hallway.

She rounded the corner and pushed open the door to the courtyard, bracing herself.

Skye sat on the bench wearing a beautiful black dress, smiling down at the white fluffy dog with the rose in his mouth. She patted him on the head, scratching between his ears in his favorite place, and took the rose gently from his mouth.

She looked up, apparently anticipating Bea’s appearance, and Bea smiled at her bashfully. 

“What’s this for?” Skye asked. “Is Vizmund asking me to be his Valentine? I’m sorry, buddy, it’s nowhere near February. Nice try, though.”

Bea laughed, daring to step closer. “No, it’s from me. Delivered via Vizmund to make it sweeter.”

“It’s beautiful,” Skye said, her eyes still questioning the gift.

“It’s an apology, and also a thank you,” Bea explained, walking over to sit down near Skye. “An apology for whatever I did that made you avoid me at the party, and a thank you for taking me back to my room afterwards. And then another apology for everything I must’ve said while I was drunk.”

Skye smiled ruefully. “You said quite a lot,” she noted.

“I did?” Bea wondered. “Like what?”

Skye froze, the smile disappearing and a blush covering her cheeks. “Um, uh… you, uh, said that the tiger in the painting in your room was named Ollie.”

Bea burst out laughing. “I said  _ what _ ?”

“You did! You pointed to it and said ‘Shhh! Ollie is watching.’”

“Oh my god,” Bea whined, hiding her face in her hands. “I can’t even imagine how much I must’ve embarrassed myself.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Skye refuted, but she was still blushing, so Bea didn’t know how much to believe. There must have been something the redhead wasn’t telling her.

“So anyways,” Bea said, trying not to let her eyes linger too long on Skye’s face, “would you please forgive me?”

“There’s… nothing to forgive,” Skye decided. “I should be the one who’s sorry. I was just… trying to figure something out. About myself.”

“A healthy dose of self-reflection,” Bea nodded. “I think I’ve kind of been doing that all day.”

“I bet that hangover hurts,” Skye said, not unkindly, taking a seat on the edge of the fountain and she followed suit..

“So much,” Bea confirmed, smiling. “It was the only one of Great Aunt Elle’s that I’ve been old enough to drink at, and I think I went a little overboard.”

“To be fair, I think that was her goal,” Skye laughed. “The Duchess is quite a character.”

“Speaking of the Duchess,” Bea said, “I had kind of an idea? It’s definitely a bad idea but I wanted your input.”

“Shoot,” Skye said, turning towards Bea.

“In a few minutes,” Bea looked down on her lap, feeling unusually self-conscious knowing she had the redhead's full attention. “I asked some of the others to meet us here.”

Skye suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Um, you mean your Selected? I don’t know if I…”

“Not all of them,” Bea clarified. “Just the ones I think I can trust. Can I count on you to at least hear me out?”

“I… okay,” Skye said unconvincingly. “Fine. But I can’t promise anything more than that.”

“That’s okay,” Bea nodded. “Just listen to what I have to say, and you can make a choice from there.”

Silence fell across the courtyard for a few moments, except for Vizmund’s happy pants as he ran around the courtyard, until Grace arrived at the door to the courtyard.

“Lady Skye,” she acknowledged the redhead. “Bea, I gave them the notes, and they wanted a few of the others to come as well.”

“Good,” Bea decided. “Everyone can come in.”

Five of the Selected came through the doorway: Ajay, Rory, Jordan, Michael and Caleb. Grace fastened the swinging door to one side of the wall, essentially locking it. Bea beckoned her over, and Grace carefully picked her way over to her side, sitting on the bench next to her, her back unusually stiff as she sat.

“Is this everyone?” Bea asked.

“We couldn’t find Aiden,” Jordan said. “I thought he might be in the music room, but he wasn’t, so I figured we’d just go without him.”

“But yes, this is everyone,” Ajay confirmed. 

“Great. So. I was informed this morning that there were rebel attacks in the capital of Honduragua.”

None of the guys reacted much. Rebel attacks in the Southern Provinces weren’t very unusual.

“Of course there were the deaths, and... much of the city was burned. The people require massive aid, much more and much quicker than the provincial government is capable of providing. My proposal is that we fly out to Honduragua and provide aid ourselves. I have already organized transport and secured cargo of goods, mostly courtesy of the Duchess of Angeles, to help the wounded and homeless. I just need people to go with me.”

“That can’t possibly be safe,” Rory blurted out. “You’re telling me the rebels  _ just _ attacked and now you want to go right to the war zone? I can’t believe the King Father would let you go.”

“That’s the thing,” Bea grinned. “He won’t. He expressly forbade me from going. But…”

Michael started to smile. “But… you’re going to do what you want,” he said.

“Exactly,” Bea grinned. “It’ll be risky. We might be going into danger, or we might see terrible things while we’re there. But I think if we have a chance to show the people of Solari that we care about them, we can do some really good work.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I agree with Silva,” Ajay said, shaking his head. “This is a terrible idea. I understand why you want to go, but it’s just too risky.”

“What’s life without a risk?” Michael asked.

“You’re not helping,” Caleb argued.

The guys broke out into a discussion, and a small hand right beside Bea squeezed hers. A jolt of electricity spread through Bea’s body, and then she turned to her right.

“I’m going with you,” Skye said.

“Me too,” Grace said from Bea’s left, her lips pressed together in her first smile of the day. Bea felt relief wash over her, almost like she’d passed some sort of test that the other girl had set for her.

“Well, I’m definitely in,” Michael held his hands in the air, breaking up the argument the guys were having. “This place is too boring. I want to go somewhere I can make a real difference, and have fun.”

Caleb nodded. “I agree. Not that it’s boring, of course, but just that it’ll be nice to have a chance to prove our skills as public servants. That is what the government is meant to be, right?”

Bea nodded.

Ajay sighed. “I guess I’ll go too,” he said. “But let the record show that I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“If Ajay’s going, I’m going,” Rory added.

Jordan nodded. “I’ve seen things like this happen in Bonita,” he added. “I think the Princess is good to want to help, I just want to make sure she makes it back okay. I’ll go, so I can help keep her safe.”

Bea grinned. “I knew you guys would all agree,” she said. Ajay grumbled off to the side, but all the other guys ignored him.

“Okay, so here’s what we’ll do…”

***

Grace opened the doors quietly and went to peek on the hallway outside her bedroom before closing it again. "Same guards outside."

"Okay," Bea nodded, sliding her arms through the long travelling coat Grace prepared for her. "The passageways it is."

She checked her reflection one last time, she was dressed in a plain white short-sleeved shirt, a knee-length navy blue skirt, a pair of black stockings and the traveling boots that Grace managed to find from her closet and let Bea borrow for once. To top it all off, they found a blue trench coat that Grace deemed necessary for travelling so Bea put it on too before dashing for the bag on her bed containing a stash of snacks and packed sandwiches that Grace prepared earlier. 

"All set?" Bea asked.

Grace had been fixing the skirt of her black sleeveless dress in front of the mirror, under it was a long-sleeved gray sweater and a pair of similar black leggings like Bea's. The girl's dark hair was held up in a bun like she usually does when working, and insisted on keeping it that way knowing they would be a lot of work waiting for them once they got there. 

Once finished, Grace turned to her and smiled, taking one of the bags from her. "Ready."

Bea headed to the secret panel on the wall and pushed it gently, hearing the quiet creaking of wood against wood that they prayed the guards didn't hear. "Light?"

Grace rummaged through the bag and held up a flashlight for her. There was a short dark hallway facing them and once they were inside, Grace closed the panel as quietly as she could before they trudged through the silent and empty passageways that were meant for servants a long time ago. 

"We still have half an hour," Bea whispered to Grace.

"Still, we can't risk having someone catch us and hold us long enough for the helicopter to leave without us."

"Let's just hope the others made it to the meeting place."

The meeting place happened to be one of the doors on the west wing, near the studio where the Report was taken every Friday, and the area mostly empty during the other days of the week especially when there were no occasions happening.

Jordan and Caleb assured them that they would clear the hallway from any guards and Bea wondered how exactly they could make that happen. She and Grace practically ran their way down the old stairs snaking behind the palace walls that were hidden from the main hallways. When they made it down what felt like a hundred sets of stairs, Grace led her to an old door on the corner and it opened to a small utility closet in the kitchen, a place they were glad was empty that time. 

That's what they thought.

"Bea?" A familiar voice called out. She and Grace froze instantly and looked over to see Ian sliding off the kitchen counter he was sitting on with his bottle of orange juice. His eyes wandered to their clothes and his look turned suspicious. "Where… are you two going?"

"The gardens." Grace replied without thinking.

"Women's Room." Said Bea at the same time.

"Dressed like that?" Ian laughed, nodding unconvinced. "Right."

She shot Grace a panicked look. "We just thought we'd dress up from time to time."

"And find somewhere to hang out to," Grace added. "Somewhere that's… not her room?"

The more they speak, the more it has become obvious Ian doesn't believe anything they were saying just by the smirk on his face. "Where are you really going? It's like…" he checked his watch. "Four-thirty in the morning."

"Ian, listen," Bea rushed to her brother's side and pulled him over to the hallway, making sure it was empty first. "We're going to Honduragua."

His eyes widened. "Hondu--"

Grace covered his mouth really fast before his voice could attract the guards. "Shhhh."

Her brother pushed Grace's hand away. "Bea, what the hell? It's not safe out there!"

"We'll be fine," she tried to reason. "Aunt Elle made sure we'll get a safe passage with her army and one of the military helicopters to transport food and supplies for the people."

"You can't be serious, the rebels--"

"Ian, we need to help. And Grandpa wasn't listening to anything I was saying. The people need our help."

Ian looked between the two of them, eyebrows furrowed. "I… I can't let you go like this, Bea."

"You can try." Bea stepped closed to look her brother in the eye. He was four inches taller, but Bea was never intimidated by that considering she was three minutes older. "It's either you let us go or Grace and I will tie you up in that broom closet. Your choice."

Her brother looked at the broom closet on the corner, and sighed heavily. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I know you wouldn't agree."

"You're right, but I could have used a little warning, you know?" He whispered. "You better thought this through. Who are you going with?"

They heard a series of footsteps coming over so Bea grabbed her brother's arm and pulled him along as they headed to the west wing. She told him about the suitors and Skye, as well as the troops arranged by the Duchess early in the evening after Bea confirmed that they decided to go as planned.

They made it to the hallway on the west wing and found Skye already waiting there in the shadow, leaning against the wall. Bea couldn't help but stare at the redhead, who was dressed in full black like she always did. A cape dress made of wool that ran just below her knees and a pair of thick fishnet stockings that matched her usual black boots. 

Grace tugged her hand. "Come on."

"Uh, right." Bea didn't even realize she stopped walking. The redhead looked up once they reached her. "Where are the others?"

Skye nodded on the hallway behind them. "Incoming."

Sure enough, Rory and Ajay appeared from the corner, breathing hard as if they ran all the way from their rooms.

"Hey, guys," Rory greeted with a smile.

Ajay wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. "We almost got caught."

"Did anyone see you?" Grace asked.

"Nope." The boys said in unison.

"Is he going too?" Skye asked, gesturing at Ian's clothes. "In pajamas?"

Ian glanced at everyone, who were dressed for traveling. "I--"

The doors at the end of the hall swung open, startling them all. Michael, dressed in full Royal Guards uniform, appeared behind them and stood beside a big black van with the royal seal on the side. Bea almost wanted to ask where he got that from but decided against it. "Oh, good. You're there."

"Where's Jordan and Caleb?" Asked Bea.

"In position. They're waiting for us." The guy turned to open the doors at the back of the van and gestured for them all to get in. Before any of them could move, Michael's eyes fixed on something behind them and they all stopped once they realized they could hear footsteps coming.

They all turned to find Maria marching straight towards them, dressed in her work attire and her high-heels tapping on the floor as she walked.

"Going somewhere?" The older girl asked. 

Michael grinned, albeit nervously. "What's up, Maria? Isn't it a little too early--"

"Save it." Maria paused in front of them, arms crossed. "I know where you're going and may I just say how terribly stupid this idea was?" She turned to Bea. "No offense, Your Highness."

"I know, we just…" Bea wasn't sure what to say. They were all rendered speechless and no one dared to speak up. 

"As crazy as you all must have gotten, I supposed I can't really stop you from going but you can't seriously think you're going without me."

Silence. 

_ Wait, she's going too? _

Everyone stared at the girl blankly, her words not sinking into their heads. 

"If you wish to leave without being seen, I suggest we start going now." Maria added when no one spoke. "You don't think I learned about this on my own? Brian Crandall alerted me about this."

"Brian?" Skye mumbled. 

They followed her gaze and sure enough, a tall red head was heading towards them as well, from where Maria came from. 

Brian grinned, spreading his arms as he approached. "I heard there was a party I wasn't invited to, so I thought I'd bring some of the guards with me. Don't worry, they'll be here in a minute."

"Brian, what did you do?" Bea asked, glaring at the older Crandall. 

"Stopping you."

"We're leaving to help the people in Honduragua."

"A noble idea but you're wasting your time." Brian shook his head. Bea felt Grace's hand balling into fists and she couldn't blame her if she wanted to punch the smug look from the guy's face. Despite the sets of glares sent his way, Brian wasn't even a bit fazed. "There would be no Selection to win if the princess is dead. So if you think I'm letting  _ her _ go to this stupid trip, you're mistaken. The rest of you can go and die all you want, Bea stays within the palace, with me." 

Brian stepped forward to grab Bea, but he had to jump back on instinct when a big white blur appeared out of nowhere. Vizmund put himself between her and Brian, growling and baring his teeth menacingly at the latter. Brian fell back a couple more steps, hands up in the air. "Bea, tell your dog to stand down."

If it was possible, Vizmund growl louder at that.

"Get in the van," Bea told the others and she heard them scrambling up the vehicle, even Ian. She turned back to Brian. "Bold of you to assume you can stop me. I'll be back, Brian, but it's not like me coming back means you're actually winning anything."

With that, she climbed up to the van with Ajay and Rory's help and sat on the space next to Grace. 

" _ Veni _ ." Bea called for Vizmund.

The white dog let out a last growl and feigned a step towards Brian, making the guy jump back farther before climbing the van with them. Vizmund settled in front of Bea, eyes bright and alert. 

"The guards will stop this, Bea!" Brian yelled. 

"Go back to bed, Brian. You're dreaming." Rory said as he started to close the doors.

"Wait!" Someone called again. Erin and her cameraman came running to the van, jostling Brian on the way with their equipment. The two climbed in as well, squeezing into the van. "Sorry! Sorry! We heard from someone about this, we thought we'd tag along for a great headline."

The engine started and Michael, sitting on the driver's seat, turned around to look at them. "Is that everyone?"

"Yes," Bea replied. "We have to go."

"All right! Hang on, everyone."

The van lurched forward then sped through the courtyard past startled guards and early morning servants. Inside, they were pushed against each other with the force of Michael's speed driving. She heard a few curses and she noticed everyone holding on to their seats for their lives.

"Who thought it was a great idea to put Michael Harrison behind the wheel?" Maria demanded, gritting her teeth.

"We needed to be at the airfield within fifteen minutes!" Bea explained. "He was the only one willing to drive fast enough!"

"I heard that, Maria!" Michael called from the front seat.

Ian screamed. "We're going to die!"

The van suddenly lurched to a stop when Michael hit the breaks just as they reached the gates, causing everyone to stumble forward. Grace flew off her seat and was caught on Ajay's lap, the guy wrapping his arms around her to keep her from crashing to the floor of the vehicle.

Bea tried to reach for her. "Grace!"

"I'm fine! Oh my--" Grace's eyes widened when she realized she ended up on Ajay's lap, rushing to get back next to Bea. 

"Harrison!" Maria scolded. "Why--"

The doors at the back of the vehicle were thrown open and Jordan, dressed in a guard uniform like Michael, grinned at everyone inside before jumping in, shutting the doors again.

"Come on!" The guy called, falling on the seat next to Maria. "They're coming this way!"

When Bea looked out the window, she saw a dozen guards running after the van they were in. "Go!"

"Michael, drive!" Caleb's voice said from the front, sitting beside Michael.

Michael hit the accelerator and the van zoomed past the gates, which were left open for them and Bea suspected the two guys had something to do with that.

They all heaved a sigh of relief once they put a good distance from the gates. Bea felt like getting sick to her stomach from the adrenaline and the movement of the vehicle, but she couldn't help but smile as everyone looked at each other.

There was a second of silence, then Ian suddenly burst out laughing. "That's the craziest thing I've ever done in my life!"

"I know! I thought for sure we'll get caught!" Grace shook in her laughter.

"What took y'all so long?" Jordan asked after they all calmed down.

"We were held up a little by Miss Maria. And also Brian Crandall." Rory said, pointing to Maria whom Jordan didn't realize was there until someone pointed her out. 

"Oh, hi!" Jordan grinned, waving at the girl. Bea had to admit, the uniform actually looked good on him. She doesn't even want to ask where they got those uniforms but it surprisingly fitted them well.

"...my butler was a bit hesitant at first," said Jordan to the others. "But he managed to make it look like the official guard uniform so we didn't need to steal from anyone."

"Where are we going?" Erin spoke for the first time since they left.

"The airfield." Bea answered. "It wasn't far from here. My Great Aunt informed me about a helicopter leaving to transport supplies to Honduragua. She gave us permission to hitch a ride."

"Oh, God." Ian gave her a horrified look. "Grandfather will kill us if we even make it back alive."

Everyone exchanged nervous glances. They all knew they would be in big trouble once they got back, especially Bea, but she was more than prepared to take all the blame especially if it was her idea in the first place.

"Is that it?" Caleb asked, pointing through the windows.

They were within the city outside the palace gates by now, rolling passed the tall old buildings and the commercial areas towards the exit. They followed his finger and from the distance, they could see a wide open field next to a giant hangar and there, a huge red military helicopter was waiting for them, its propellers already moving like it was ready to take off any minute.

Michael drove the van faster, covering the remaining distance between them and the airfield in less than five minutes and the vehicle screeched to a stop a few yards away from the helicopter. 

Jordan threw the doors open and they all piled out one by one. He offered his hand for Maria and happily helped her down, followed by Bea and Grace then the guys. Erin and her cameraman, who introduced himself as Charles, were the last to go out of the vehicle. Charles had his camera ready by now, capturing the scene around them.

"Your Highness," an elderly man in black and yellow uniform and the Angeles seal on his chest approached her with a bow. "The Duchess informed us that you will be coming and we were worried you might not make it."

"Thank you for waiting for us, Commander." Bea replied politely, reading the tag on his uniform. "Is everything ready to go?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Just as planned." The man confirmed, pointing to at least a dozen men already sitting inside. "The Duchess also requested only the best soldiers in my squad. We will ensure a safe passage for you and your…" the commander looked from Ian, who was dressed in pajamas, to Vizmund. "Companions."

"We appreciate that." She nodded then saw the urgent look on her brother's face. "I think we should go. Everyone, please find your seats."

"Bea!" Ian called, pointing to the road. 

Three military trucks were heading to the airfield, bearing their royal coat-of-arms with at least half a dozen men in guard uniforms in each of them.

"Make it fast!" Bea yelled to the others. They loaded into the helicopter quickly, her finding a seat between Ajay and Skye. "Vizmund?" She called, finding the dog on one of the seats, a man was putting him on a leash to keep him from falling off his seat and a gear around his head to cover his ears for the flight. Vizmund calmly perched on his place, his tongue lolling from his mouth as if he had been trained for this ride all his life.

Only one person didn't climb the helicopter. Ian watched them all get fastened to their seatbelts as he stayed behind and stood a good distance away in his pajamas. "Go! I'll hold them off! Come back as soon as you can, alright?"

He gave her a smile before the doors were slid shut and the helicopter ascended into the air. Bea reached out for the hand to her right, which turned out to be Skye's, and held on to her tight as she felt them leave the ground. 

When she looked over the window, she caught a glimpse of her twin brother waving at her, beside him was a horrified Frank staring after the departing airfreight. 

Bea knew that Ian would be in huge trouble once he got back to the palace, but she preferred it that way than have him along the trip with them and risk his life too. It was a little comfort, knowing she left someone to take over her place if it happens that she can never get back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOOOOOOOO FIELD TRIP EPISODE!


	17. Partners? Partners.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Honduragua!

Grace watched Bea carefully once the helicopter landed in a wide open field in Honduragua and everyone got out. There were already a handful of helicopters and huge military trucks surrounding the area, dozens of troops in different uniforms bearing different colors of their provinces who were there to help out as well. Their arrival caused everyone to stop, the other commanders barking orders to pay respects to the princess whom they had seen by now.

It was hot in Tegucigalpa, hotter than it ever got in Angeles. The sun seemed brighter, somehow, and Grace noticed that many of the helicopter passengers, especially Skye, were squinting in the bright sun. From the airfield, Grace could see mountains in the distance. She could also see smoke coming from the city not far away, and she bit her lip. The damage looked like it was worse than any of them had thought. From their view from the sky earlier, the entire city ahead appeared to be a large black patch in the landscape.

“Alright, everyone. Welcome to Honduragua,” said the pilot. “I was instructed by Duchess Elle to brief you guys out before we proceed to our agenda. There’s a refugee camp about a mile down this road, and we’re going to help there, giving out food and water and making sure people can get additional medical care if they need it.”

Grace was still watching Bea. The princess was leaning forward on her toes, frowning, trying to see the city. Beside her, Skye was already fanning herself, and Ajay was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. 

“Do any of you speak Spanish?” the pilot asked, and Bea, Jordan, Maria, and a number of soldiers and volunteers all raised their hands.  _ That’s right _ , Grace remembered.  _ Jordan’s from Bonita, one of the provinces in the South, and Maria must be from one of the Spanish-speaking provinces too _ .

With a slight pang, Grace thought that it might’ve been good to have Owen here. He was Honduraguan by birth and spoke fluent Spanish. He would’ve been able to show everyone around, explain local customs, comfort the locals. Maybe she should’ve told him that they were going.

The commanders began organizing things, pointing for different people to pull the small wagons with the cargo in it, and assigning a formation for the guards that had come with them. They were Duchess Elle’s army, members of the Angeles regiment, and the rest of the troops looked up to them as Angeles was the center and capital of Solari.

Grace was given a wagon full of medical supplies to pull. She noticed Bea had volunteered to take an extremely heavy-looking wagon of water bottles, which she couldn’t pull all by herself. Watching her try, though, made Grace smile. She had been skeptical at first, but seeing how committed the Princess was made her heart lift a little. 

She had thought, at first, that maybe Bea had just been interested in this project to rebel against her grandfather or to do a publicity stunt. But watching Bea walk around, rallying everyone up, Grace knew that couldn’t be true. And she resented herself for thinking it. Bea just genuinely had a kind heart.

Grace wondered how far her goodness would go, though. In the heat, in the glaring sun, working with people who had lost everything.

Grace glanced up and realized that their makeshift caravan had started moving, and rushed to catch up. The volunteers and troops from the other provinces lined up behind them.

The pilot was at the head of the caravan, talking to Jordan and Maria. Bea followed closely behind, chatting with Rory.

_ They must’ve made up _ , Grace realized.  _ Good for them _ .

Grace caught up to the tail end of the caravan, which happened to be Ajay. He seemed to be struggling quite a bit, although he’d only been given a few boxes of food to pull around. He was already sweating.

“Not used to the heat?” Grace asked as she walked up, falling into step with him.

“Miss Grace,” he replied. “Perhaps not. It gets hot like this in New Asia, sometimes, but I’m never doing manual labor.”

Grace grinned. “Not very athletic?”

Ajay shook his head. “Not at all. I don’t do that kind of stuff.”

“Interesting,” Grace said. “Still, isn’t it nice to help out?”

“It is,” Ajay said uneasily, “but I’m just worried about the King Father’s reaction. I can’t help but wonder if we’ll all be sent home the second the helicopter touches back down in Angeles.”

“He’ll be mad,” Grace said, “but technically, the Duchess gave Bea the okay. And Bea won't let him take it out on you guys.”

“I don’t know about that. He seems pretty… harsh.”

"True, but he's a reasonable man." She said. "And no matter how much he tried to act more superior over Bea, she won't let you all get in trouble for this."

They both looked over at the princess a few meters ahead of them. The commander had come over, taking the wagon of bottled water from Bea as they talked. They also noticed how four of the Angeles men had kept a loose circle around them, vigilant, with their weapons ready if anything ever comes out of nowhere. Considering the numbers of soldiers who came with them, the rebels would be fools to even try and ambush them this way.

The closer they got to the refugee, the more they saw the remnants of the destruction brought by the fire. Everything was covered in soot and ashes, the pavement, the trees and even the people. There were residents on the sidewalk, resting. Women were sitting on makeshift blankets on the side of the road as their children slept on their laps, men wiping sweat and dirt from their faces and city guards and firemen in tattered uniforms trying to catch their breathing after fighting the fire for almost an entire day.

As they passed, the people started to look up from their places and frown as their group entered the camp. They stood up, their eyes settling on Bea and slowly, astonishment dawned on their faces once they realized who the girl really is. 

Grace doesn't need to learn Spanish to understand the words  _ Princesa _ and  _ Reina _ as the people murmured among themselves excitedly. The children were woken up by their mothers, the Honduraguan army tried their best to straighten their wrinkled and soot-stained uniforms to look just a bit presentable for the Crown Princess. 

The word spread like wildfire across the refugee camp and the space they were walking on became narrow as more people crowd the sidewalk to witness the arrival of the future Queen whom they had never seen in person before since her birth, only on the weekly Reports through town square broadcasts and televisions.

The Angeles soldiers watched the crowd cautiously, keeping a close eye on the princess and holding up their hands to signal the people to give them space. Bea, on the other hand, tried her best to meet everyone's greetings with a bright smile that Grace knew was genuinely happy to see the same smile on the people's faces. Their group compressed into a closer unit, Grace squeezed passed Michael and Caleb and went to Bea's side, shooting a glance to Skye. The girl's red hair was already sticking to the side of her face and forehead and she couldn't but laugh at the grimace on Skye's face.

"Good Lord!" A short gray-haired man pushed past the crowd, flanked by a couple of soldiers, and Grace realized he must be the Duke himself. Despite the title, the old man appeared to be no different from his people, looking worse for wear with his wrinkly and dusty suit. He looked just as tired as everyone too, but it didn't take away the big delighted smile on his face upon seeing their group, especially the young princess. "Your Highness! Welcome! Welcome!"

The people cheered along his words. The Duke spoke rapid Spanish to them and they seemed to listen and calmed down a little. 

"Oh, no! No!" Bea shook her head, smiling. "You don't have to!"

Grace noticed the crowd around them started to go down on their knees. The princess looked around frantically, unsure how to stop people from doing that. She found an old woman struggling on her shaking knees and Bea rushed over to help the woman stand, the latter bursting into tears just by being held by the princess and the girl didn't mind that she got dirt all over her boots and coat as she talked to the poor lady in Spanish, her tone gentle.

Even the Duke was on his knees. Grace watched the scene, feeling the tears threatening to spill from her eyes at the sight of devotion and hope on their faces, wondering how long it had been since these people saw the leader of the country. If they saw any of them at all, the Royal family tend to avoid the south in fear of the rebels. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but the tears in their eyes were definitely happy tears. Maria and Jordan helped the princess to talk to the people, appeasing them. 

"My lady," The Duke stood up. "You have no idea how honored we are to have you grace us with your presence. I just wish it was under better circumstances."

"I'm glad to have made it here,  _ Señor _ Alvarez." Bea replied, humble as ever. "We're here to help out with the short time we got. Anything the people need."

Grace looked around as the princess spoke with the Duke. She spotted Vizmund a few yards away, his thick white fur already turning gray as he played with the children on the darkened patch of grass. Erin stayed a bit far too, with her camera clicking non-stop and Charles recording a video of everything. The Selected and Maria were spread out talking to the people, or in Ajay's case, trying to. Rory doesn't understand a thing as well, but he managed to make it work with charming smiles and waves.

She felt a hand tugging on her arm and when Grace looked over, she saw a little girl holding up a small wildflower for her, smiling. She had to crouch a little on the ground as she faced the girl, taking the flower with a smile. " _ Gracias _ ." She said, pointing to herself. "I'm Grace. You?" 

The little girl gave her a blank look and instead pointed to a group consisting of a woman that must be her mother, a man her father, and a skinny old woman waiting on the edge of the crowd. They were smiling at them, and Grace returned it with a wave.

"Making friends already?" Ajay appeared on her side, offering a hand to the little girl. "She's a cutie."

"I know, right?" Grace laughed, brushing the little girl's greasy hair away from her face. "I just wish we could understand each other. Look! She even gave me a flower. Isn't she sweet?"

"A sweet gesture, I agree."

"Oh, hello!" Bea joined them, waving excitedly to the little girl and greeting her in Spanish for a bit before turning to them. "You're together already, good! I'm assigning everyone in pairs and you two will be partners."

Grace exchanged glances with Ajay and shrugged. "Okay, then. Who are you going to be paired with?"

"No one." Bea ruffled the little girl's hair. "I'll help out with everyone. Erin will be helping too. She assigned all that recording job to Charles."

The princess reached into her bag and pulled out a special chocolate bar they brought with them from the palace, handing it to the little girl and whispering something to her ears. The little girl smiled big at whatever Bea told her and ran back to her parents.

Grace fake pouted, pretending to be shocked. "That was my favorite chocolate! I brought it for myself!"

"I'll give you a box of that when we get home." Bea laughed at her reaction. "Come, there's a breakfast table over there if you two are hungry before we proceed to working, and on that side," She pointed to a newly built tent. "There's relief goods for the people. They're already packed in bags. And also in that tent, there's food for everyone. Prioritize the kids, the elderlies and the injured if possible."

"Sounds perfect," Ajay stood up, offering a hand for Grace. "We have a day of helping out, Miss Grace. Partners?"

"Partners." Grace took his hand and let him help her stand. 

"You two will be a great team." Bea hugged them both, Grace caught a glimpse of Bea's glistening brown eyes before they were engulfed in her hug. "I can't thank you enough for supporting me in this even if we had to go through a lot of troubles."

"Are you kidding?" Grace grinned. "This is the most fun I’ve had since… well, since the party the other night. That one was hard to beat."

Ajay shook his head, a smile on his face.

"I'm sorry…" Bea pulled away, wiping her eyes slowly. The girl must have been holding her emotions in check for the sake of their mission and to take charge of the situation but only now that it became too unbearable to hold inside her. "I just-- I… I've been holding back my tears since I saw how terrible their situation was. I braced myself for the worst and I still--"

"Bea, it's okay," Grace pulled her back in a hug and the princess buried her face on Grace's shoulder. "I know what you feel, and I'm actually glad you're feeling that way for your people." She rubbed the girl's back, feeling her shaking breath as she cried. "I'd be surprised if you felt nothing but indifference about them."

She looked at Ajay over Bea's shoulder and the guy watched them with a conflicted frown on his forehead. He doesn't have to speak for her to know he was feeling the same as them, Grace just realized he was struggling to express it. She let her friend compose herself for a couple of minutes and when Bea pulled back, she was looking a lot better. Grace offered her a handkerchief from her bag.

"Thank you," Bea smiled. "I needed that."

"What's these small shoulders for if not for my friend to cry on?"

"Feel free to cry on my shoulders too." Bea replied. She finished dabbing her eyes from tears before looking around. "Alright, time to work. I'll help you check on the wounded when I get the chance. The emergency medical team already made a headstart so we'll just need to assist them as much as we can. I have to discuss the housing and resettlement issues with the Duke, the length and cost of rebuilding them. In the meantime, you and Ajay have fun together."

"We'll do our best." Ajay bowed before the girl went back to the old Duke. 

Grace watched as Bea walked away, stopping to high-five two children sitting on a curb and shaking the hand of their mother.

“She’s got such a good heart,” the girl mused, then turned back to Ajay. He had been looking at her, which brought a small blush to Grace’s cheeks. Or maybe it was just because of the heat.

“You do, too,” Ajay said. “Everyone here does. I was whining about breaking rules earlier, but… I don’t know. Somehow, being here, I can’t think about how important some arbitrary rules are when I have the chance to help someone.”

Grace nodded. “I hope the King Father will be able to see it that way,” she sighed. “It’s true that this was an impulsive decision on Bea’s part, but she knows it has to be done. She’ll be Queen someday, and people have to know that she’s there for them.”

“It’s a rare thing to see a princess or any noble out working with the poor,” he agreed. “Usually we just give money or have food drives. But this seems a lot more effective. Now the people here know that their future queen is willing to do the hard work herself if that’s what the country needs.”

“When you’re in a desperate situation, even the smallest act of kindness can change your entire world view.”

“Speaking from experience?” Ajay quirked an eyebrow.

Grace sighed. “...yes,” she said, deciding that it couldn’t really hurt to tell him the truth. “Yes, when I was homeless and starving, and Greg and Rita let me sleep in their townhouse so I could have a roof over my head… it changed everything for me.”

“And now you get to do that for others,” Ajay smiled, reaching forward to pull a wagon full of baby food towards them. “Let’s start over here, offer this stuff to the mothers with really young kids?”

“Sure,” Grace said, picking up a box from the wagon with ease and taking it over to a table in a central area surrounded by a couple of tents.

She desperately thought back on the few Spanish lessons she’d had as a kid. Nothing in particular had stuck, but she thought she remembered a few words, like the word for food and the word for baby. She took a few of the jars out of the box, carrying them over to a mother who had a toddler in her lap and a baby sleeping bundled up and strapped to her chest.

Grace smiled at the lady, trying to look as non-intimidating as possible which was easy because the woman must have been at least four inches taller than her.

“Hola,” she started hesitantly. The woman returned the greeting, a small but tired smile on her face.

“Um, uh, this is, uh,  _ comida _ for… for  _ tu bebé _ ,” she tried, not sure if the woman would understand.

Luckily the woman nodded, smiling and taking the jars from Grace. “ _ Gracias _ ,” she replied, and Grace nodded, smiled, and patted the toddler’s head when he ran directly into her leg.

Grace headed back to her box and grabbed another few jars, heading over to the next woman who had a baby on her lap. She was able to get by conversationally with the woman, as she knew a little English, and she told Grace that her baby’s name was Oscar.

“ _ Hola _ , Oscar,” Grace said, looking at the cute baby. He had black curly hair and little brown eyes, and he stared at her. Grace didn’t want to admit it, but she fell a little bit in love with the little baby. The mother held Oscar’s arm, making him do a little wave back at Grace. Both of the women laughed.

Grace thanked the mother, blew Oscar a kiss, and returned to her box. By now, a few more women had gathered around, making it easier for Grace to hand out jars of baby food and wave at the babies. Some of the toddlers were cranky, but a few of them were full of energy, and Grace gave all of them some chocolate bars that she’d found at the bottom of the box. They ran off to show off the candy to their friends and their parents, and Grace laughed after them as she continued to hand out the food. The box was depleted fairly quickly, and Grace decided she should return to the wagon to get more.

Ajay hadn’t strayed far from the wagon, focusing on a bunch of the little kids who had been sitting around and playing in the area. He was on his knees next to a little boy right now, holding out a spoon of food towards the boy’s mouth and making airplane noises.

Grace couldn’t hold back her giggle. Seeing the dignified, serious guy playing with a young kid was hilarious to watch. It also made something in her heart soften, a strange feeling resting in her chest while she watched.

She walked over, and setting her hand on Ajay’s shoulder made the man jump, spilling all the food out of the spoon he was holding.

The toddler laughed, which was an altogether adorable sound, and Ajay turned around to look at Grace sheepishly.

“ _ Hola _ ,” Grace said, her attention redirected to the boy. “ _ Como estas? _ ”

The boy responded but Grace couldn’t comprehend what he said, so she just smiled and nodded. Ajay dug another spoonful of food out of its jar and held it up to the boy’s lips, but he wouldn’t open his mouth until Ajay resignedly made the airplane noises again. 

Grace had to cover her mouth to keep from giggling, and Ajay shot her a fake glare.

“I have a little brother,” he said. “He’s only eight and when he was really little, if both of my parents were working I was the one who had to give him food. Toddlers won’t eat unless you make the airplane noises.”

“I can see that,” Grace grinned. For some reason, the thought of Ajay with a little brother was unbearably cute.  _ What the hell, brain? _ “Well, maybe he’ll get to be a prince someday.”

“Hm? Oh, maybe,” Ajay said, still looking at Grace. Her face started heating up again.  _ What’s wrong with me? Am I getting heatstroke? _

“What’s his name?” Grace asked, trying to break the long silence.

“Mohit.”

“And is he a dinosaurs kid or a cars kid?”

Ajay smiled. “Neither. He’s an octopus kid. He’s obsessed with them. Our parents have this documentary about them, and he literally will not stop watching it.”

“I was obsessed with dolphins as a kid,” Grace said, “so I kind of get that. I’m not sure if I was up to Mohit levels of obsession, though.”

“What was Grace as a kid like?” Ajay wondered, smiling.

“Kind of clumsy and really stubborn, honestly,” Grace said. It was nice to talk about her childhood without the pangs of grief that usually accompanied the memories. “I could never decide what I wanted to do on a certain day. I’d start out with my crayons, then I’d want to go to the market, then I’d want to read a story, then I’d want to go see our neighbors’ pets,” she recalled.

“So not much difference between then and now?” Ajay teased.

“Hey!” Grace replied, smacking his shoulder lightly. “You take that back!”

“I won’t,” he argued, “not after I saw you literally trip over nothing last week.”

Grace’s eyes widened. “You saw that?”

Ajay raised his eyebrows and shook his head, making Grace laugh again.

_ Is it really this easy? _ Grace wondered as she and Ajay continued to talk and hand out the food.  _ Can I be allowed to just… be happy? Laugh with friends, do hard work and feel good about it at the end of the day? _

***

It was late in the afternoon when Bea sat down on one of the tents and joined a handful of children as they ate this southern dish on their serving boxes.

The children had been bathed and cleaned together earlier, Bea watched their parents do it and even helped dress them up with the fresh clean clothes donated by the people from different provinces. She was hungry and tired, but none of that matters as she saw them ate heartily and appeared to look healthier for once. 

There was a table laid out with a variety of fresh fruits, something the Honduraguan people insisted on offering for her which in turn, she shared it with the kids around her.

She felt a movement beside her and noticed Skye standing just outside the tent, her own food in hand. 

"Hey, Skye," She smiled, then noticed that the redhead was dressed differently than the last time she saw her, causing her smile to widen even more.

"Not a word." Skye warned, trying to glare her way and failed when a smirk curved on the corner of her lips.

"Sorry, you just look so…" Bea thought for a proper word. "Touristy."

It was the closest word she could think of. When they arrived, Skye was dressed in this black cape dress made of fine wool and it looked perfect for her. Unfortunately, the blazing heat in Honduragua didn't agree to that resulting for Skye to suffer and get covered in sweat the whole day. Bea couldn't blame her, for someone who had spent her whole life surrounded mostly by snow, Angeles was already hot enough for Skye. She couldn't even begin to understand how she had been feeling the entire time they were farther down south. "Where did you get that? I thought the stores were burned down."

"Some nice old lady from the medical team brought me some of her granddaughter's spare clothes," Skye looked down on her new clothes, a canary yellow tee printed with animated palm trees and a colorful smiling parrot, complete with the cut-off denim shorts that went well with her fishnet stockings and boots. The redhead wasn't particularly happy to wear something that was screaming in colors, but it appeared to have helped cool her down a little. "Said I wouldn't survive a couple more hours under the heat if I kept on wearing that dress. I think Grace had teased me enough for wearing this." Skye shook her head. "So please try to find some sympathy for me."

"It looks so cute on you though," Bea added cheekily. "I've never seen so much color on you. Not even when your parents try and dress you up, you still find a way to put something a little dark."

"Bea." Skye raised an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, alright," she laughed. "Are you here to join us?"

The redhead looked at the number of kids surrounding her and Bea saw the hesitation on the girl's face. "Uh, is that okay?"

Bea didn't have to answer, the two children on her right scooted a little on the blanket to give space for Skye. There was a chorus of  _ Hola, señorita! _ among them and those adorable little waves that even Skye had trouble hiding her smile as she took the spot given for her beside Bea. 

Skye noticed the little boy next to her had red sauce all over his face and Bea was surprised when the redhead reached for some napkins to wipe the sauce from his face with surprising gentleness. She learned Skye actually knew Spanish, as she mumbled a few words to the boy, telling him to take it slow on the mess.

"You didn't tell us you speak Spanish." Bea pointed out. 

"Not as good as yours and the others. Our parents thought Brian and I should learn at least a bunch of famous languages to impress the court and the royal family," Skye nodded to her for emphasis. "Brian didn't really pay attention to Spanish, since he wasn't overly fond of the poor Southern provinces and they agreed to that."

"And he claimed he would be perfect for the throne." Bea sighed.

"I'm glad I learned though," the redhead said. "Or I wouldn't have known that Rory's attempt on Spanish meant he was asking directions to the nearest market."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. Bea could practically imagine the look on the people's face when Rory said that. "I knew I made a good choice putting you two together as partners."

"His enthusiasm made up for it." Skye agreed, looking over to where Rory was playing tag with the other children. "He was great with people, and they adored him for it. It helped make the job easier for us."

"I just noticed you don't seem to get along much. You and Rory," Bea said, looking at the redhead's face for any reaction and Skye seemed to ponder on what she said. "You know by now that both of you were important to me and I want all of my friends to get to know each other at least."

"You know I'm not that very friendly."

"That's not true," she dissented, smiling at the little boy who scooted closer to Skye.

Skye rolled her eyes but smiled. "Sometimes, I suppose."

"So you're telling me you never had friends before?"

"Define  _ friends _ ," Skye said, pausing a little as if waiting for an answer. "I've met a few nice people, or most who pretended to be one because of who I am or what family I'm from. I don't think they like to get to know me once we get past the whole nobility pleasantries."

"I know what you mean." Bea agreed. Hell, she lived with those kinds of people all her life. The ones who were eager to get close and be friends with her simply because of the title she got by birth. "So is that why you used to always try to run away from me?"

"Bea, you are the princess.  _ The _ crown princess. You sit right there, on top of everyone else and you represent most of the things I stand against. Nobility, politics, fame, wealth…" Skye sighed heavily. "Then I realized you were not all that. You were annoyingly cheerful at times and you'd recklessly defy your own grandfather and go out of your way to get to the people who need help the most. Even me."

"I have a lot of things to learn, but someone told me to keep the people I trust the most, and I know I was right to trust you when you were willing to get in trouble to join me in this."

"Right, because I'd totally prefer to stay in the palace with my mother's constant nagging and the obnoxious giggling from the court ladies." Skye made a face. 

Bea laughed. "I guess I drove an easy bargain there."

They settled in a comfortable silence with the children around them. Silence that didn't last long when someone approached their tent.

"Your Highness." The commander bowed. "My apologies for interrupting."

Bea set down her empty food box before turning to the man. "Commander?"

"We got a call from the Duchess."

"Oh?" Bea held up a finger and signalled him to wait before turning to Skye. "I'll just go find out what that was about. Do you mind keeping them company or…?"

Skye looked around the ten children surrounding them and made a face before nodding. "Do I have a choice?"

"Aw, come on. You love them." Bea smiled, patting the girl's cheek which instantly turned red. "I'll be right back."

The redhead watched her go, like she wanted to protest or say something. Bea took their empty food boxes since there was a trash can nearby and dumped them as she made her way to the commander nearby.

"Ma'am, there were people going around cleaning the premises," he pointed out.

"I know, it's fine." Bea agreed, smiling at a few locals they passed by as they went to a less crowded area. Michael and Caleb were sitting by the curb with a few of the Angeles men and they waved over, she returned the wave. Once they were out of earshot, Bea turned to the commander. "So what did she call about?"

"Asking for updates." He said. "Along with the instructions that we return to Angeles before sundown."

"Ah." Bea nodded, a little disappointed in her heart. She was just starting to truly see the improvement of the situation. If it was up to her, she would be there until she knew the city and its people were able to get back on their feet. "Of course."

"You don't seem happy with the news." The commander noted. 

"I'm not, but I supposed I've already pushed my luck too far and it's going to get dark very soon." 

"The locals warned us the rebels might still be around and the Duchess had been worried about you and your friends' safety, so is everyone from the palace."

Bea thought about her brother. Ian would be worried sick by now, especially of the way they left. Not to mention their grandfather would have given him hell for letting them leave when he got every chance to stop their stupid plan. 

_ Come back as soon as you can, alright? _ Ian told her.

She nodded firmly, swallowing her disappointment. "We leave in an hour. I'll have further discussion with Señor Alvarez about keeping me in touch with the rehabilitation of the city."

"As you wish, my lady." The commander bowed. "I'll tell the men to prepare."

Bea watched the man head towards the location of the helicopters. Some of the men stayed behind to guard the aircrafts in case anyone decided to tamper with it. They probably didn't even need an hour to prepare but Bea wanted to make sure they'd leave the city in good hands. 

"You should have stayed in the palace." A voice spoke close behind her. 

Bea whipped around, hands reaching for her bag where she knew she kept the knife she brought with her but a rough hand grabbed it and prevented her from taking it out, all without alerting anyone who could see them.

Looking up, she met Julian Castillo's eyes from under the striped scarf around his head that he wore like a hood. He looked exactly as she remembered that night of the attack, or what she thought was only a dream. Everything happened so fast that night that she didn't trust her memory about Leon's best friend, whom everyone knew had died years ago, saving her and Skye. 

Julian was dressed in an Honduraguan military uniform and one look on his tanned skin and the rugged look on his face, they could easily mistake him as one of them. But Bea knew better. He was there the night of the attack, as one of the rebels.

"You traitor," Bea mumbled. She fought against his hand, desperately trying to get the knife. 

"Stop." Julian glared. He managed to take the knife from her hand and stepped back. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"What do you want, Julian? Were you sent here to kill me?"

"Didn't I just tell you I'm not going to hurt you?"

"Fine." Bea pursed her lips, eyeing him warily.

The closest people were only a few yards away and she knew the moment she yelled, people would be there. Still she wanted to hear what he came over for. 

"Again, why are you here? Did you do that?" She pointed to the ruins of the residential area brought by the fire.

Julian refused to look. "Yes, I… I didn't hurt anyone, I swear."

"You just possibly ruined most of their lives instead."

"You're judging me way too harsh." 

"You joined the rebels, Julian." Bea retorted. "You joined the same people who killed my family and kept on terrorizing my people. That makes you an enemy."

"I didn't have a choice." Julian said, looking at her and Bea saw the conflict in his face. "When I survived the ambush and found a way to get back here from New Asia, they captured me. They knew I was from the Royal Army."

"So why not just come back? We can keep you protected from--"

"What about my family, Bea? It's either I join them or they'll kill me. I took the latter because I thought I could find a way out but I realized they'll be willing to find and kill my entire family and everyone I care about if I so much as say a word to anyone." The guy shook his head, gritting his teeth. There's anger in his eyes and the same helplessness that she had come familiar with lately when she felt trapped in her own life. "So I had to blend in with them. Act thrilled when we savage towns and cities. I try my best to eliminate members when no one sees me but they are too many and I can't risk suspicion. There's only so much that my conscience could take."

"There has to be a way out of this, Julian."

"I haven't stopped looking. Not after I heard what they did to Leon and the King and Queen. I made an oath to your brother's grave that I will find the person who did it and I'll make them pay."

It had been her plan all along too. Bea was told that seeking revenge won't be the best way to settle things but she couldn't help the anger that had been threatening to consume her whenever their deaths flash in her mind. In her head, she could see  _ him _ . The man who led the group of rebels in the execution of her family. She vowed that the next time she would see his face, she would be the one holding the gun to his head. She would be putting an end to all these terrorism in her country by rooting out the people most involved. 

"I was there." Bea spoke after a while. "He… he shot my father first. Ordered the kill on my mother. I looked him in the eyes before he put the last rounds on Leon. God, that-- that thrill on his face when he did it… it still haunts me."

Julian furrowed his eyebrows. "Him?"

"The man with the silver signet ring with… with the image of an animal's face." 

Bea studied his face closely and she could practically see the realization dawn on his face. 

The guy gripped the knife in his hand till his knuckles turned white. 

"You know him, didn't you?" Bea asked. "Surely there could be a few men who wear rings like that?"

"There's only one man who kept a ring like that on his finger. I-- I've been on raids with him." Julian's voice became a little shaky with anger. "I always thought he was one of the better ones. He's a crazy man but he kept the others from killing me. That-- I'll kill him. I'll kill that son of a--"

"Don't." She said before thinking it over. She couldn't let Julian kill that man. "Julian, don't kill him. Not yet."

"I can't promise that. I-I don't know how I'm supposed to look at his face and not want nothing more that to see him bleed the life out of him."

"Yes, you can." Bea reached over and set a hand on his arm. "He said something about a leader. Do you know who that is?"

"No…" Julian struggled to think past his anger. "I heard about him but I never met him in person before. Only a handful of people knew the Leader's identity. He only trusts a few."

"Then we need him to take us to this Leader. Julian, stay with them."

"I don't know if I can still take it. I've killed so many people, Bea."

"Help me stop them, please." Bea said softly. "Stay with them and help me get to the bottom of this so no more people have to die in their hands. I will bring you back to your family."

"You can't trust me." Julian shook his head firmly. "You're not supposed to trust me."

"And I'm not supposed to leave the palace or help those people," she nodded to the distance where the refugee camp was. "And I still did. I know I shouldn't trust myself on making this kind of decision but something inside me tells me this is what I need to do."

Julian stared at her for a long time, a rueful smile on his face. "God, you are so like him."

Bea was confused for a minute. "Who?"

"Leon. He… He was never above breaking the rules if he knew it's for the greater good. I'm guessing it's a family thing." The guy sighed heavily. "This is a dangerous game you're planning to play on, Beatrice. I know I can't stop you, so we'll see how this goes for us."

"Does that mean you'll stay with them?"

"Against my better judgement." Julian held out the knife to her, hilt first, and his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed the handle. "A North Star? Why do you have a North Star knife?"

"That's not mine," Bea took the knife from him, staring at the weird symbol on the hilt. "You say this is a North Star? What is that?"

"The symbol of the North rebels." He answered. "They were never as hostile as the southerners but they had been a nuisance to the palace for as long. They didn't agree with the caste system."

Bea racked her brain. She knew she studied about them before. The two types of rebels in their country that used to attack the palace from time to time, they stood up for two different causes. Just like Julian had said, the Northerners had hated the way the country was being run. The castes, the growing poverty and the number of Eights in the streets, the unfair treatment and discrimination between the castes. As far as Bea was concerned, there was nothing wrong with that. She would make it her mission to find out a way on how to remove the caste system once she was seated. It won't be easy considering it had been in the country's way of life for so long but she was confident she could find it.

The Southern rebels, on the other hand, were different. No one knew what they really wanted to achieve but their ways of acting out were more lethal and were often left with a number of dead bodies. Words around said they were planning to take down the monarchy altogether but after that, no one knew what they were planning to do if they ever succeeded.

Now that Bea thought about it, she felt like something was wrong. She hadn't heard about the Northern rebels for a long time, nor did they appear and caused a little chaos in the palace in the last year or so.

"Have you heard from them lately?" She asked.

"I've been wondering the same thing." Julian shrugged. "I heard rumors that they were all dead."

"Dead?" Bea looked up from the knife to him. 

"Members from where I'm from would talk about how the Royal family finally took action on taking down the Northerners. So I was surprised to see you with a knife that has their symbol."

Suddenly, it all made sense. The stranger who attacked her in her room said something about a crime that her family had committed. 

_ Their deaths wouldn't be for nothing! Confess! _ Bea remembered him saying.

"Not all of them." 

Julian looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"The person who owns this attacked me in my bedroom a week ago."

"Were you hurt?"

"No."

"So it appears that the palace might have been infiltrated. Watch your back, Your Highness. Even from your friends."

"My friends are…" As Bea turned to her side, Julian was already walking away to the refugee camp and disappearing among the people. 

She looked around, worried there might be others watching her from the distance and noticed Erin had been looking at her. The girl gave her a thumbs up to ask if she's okay and Bea nodded so she decided to go back to the tent and say some good bye to the children.

When she returned, Bea was pleasantly surprised to find Skye still huddled on the picnic blanket with the children. They were all leaning to something on her lap and once she got close enough, she saw her holding a little whiteboard and had been doodling some animated drawings on it with various colored markers which were given to the children along with several toys.

For someone who claimed to be unfriendly and indifferent on a lot of things, Skye sure had been failing at keeping her good heart hidden. 

Bea couldn't help but smile. Her talk with Julian left her mind reeling about the possibility that someone else might be out there seeking revenge on her family, but one look at the redhead and suddenly, her heart was put at ease.

She watched as Skye drew a castle so effortlessly with careful strokes of her hand. The image started to have more and more life as Skye worked on it and it left Bea in awe at how good the redhead was, considering the materials she had in hand.

Skye would smile whenever one of the children laughs at something she drew, or a color she chose to use, and Bea felt her heart skip a beat every time. She couldn't help but notice how it had been her automatic response when she'd see the girl smile.  _ Why do I feel so happy when I see her smile? _ Bea wondered, shaking her head.  _ Is it weird to think how it felt like only yesterday when they met in the courtyard by accident and also felt like they have known each other their whole lives? _

As grudgingly as she was to admit it, one of the reasons that kept her from insisting that Brian should be sent home was the fact that she knew Skye would be leaving too if he does. And Bea couldn't bear to think how it would be like to not see the redhead girl around the palace anymore or imagine what hell Skye would be returning to in Lakedon with her family. Bea couldn't bear to bring such heartbreak to Vizmund, whom she knew had grown fond of Skye.

_ Is Vizmund the only one though? _ A voice in her head asked. 

Bea felt her cheeks warmed up, but she decided to ignore that annoying voice in her head as she walked to the tent and leaned over Skye's shoulder to watch as well. "Does that princess happen to be me?"

Skye jumped from her sudden appearance and turned, their faces only inches apart. A blush crept to the girl's cheeks. "Bea…"

She smiled at her, and there was something about the pair of blue eyes staring back at her with such wonder that made her feel so secure and grounded at the moment.


	18. The North and the South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gay shit?

The flight back was considerably quiet. Mostly because half of them had fallen asleep from exhaustion after a day full of activities. 

Grace, and a handful of others, were the only ones who stayed awake the entire time and were still feeling the adrenaline from the day. Jordan and Maria were chatting in quiet voices on their corner. Vizmund was curled up on his seat, but his eyes were wide open and vigilant, watching over the sleeping princess across from them. Grace wasn't surprised to be awake, though. She was used to working all day, sometimes even through the night and today wasn't any different.

She reached over the boxes between them and scratched Vizmund's head, smiling at white fluff. "Are you not sleepy, Viz?"

The dog let out a few satisfied whimpers. Grace sighed, hoping Vizmund could talk. 

Across from them, Bea had been sleeping peacefully on Skye's shoulder and the girl was leaning her head on Bea's. Ajay and Rory had been the same that Grace had to bite her lip from giggling at the sight. She wouldn't mind falling asleep on Caleb's shoulder, but the guy seemed to be in a deep conversation with the soldier next to him, something about military training.

Grace resorted to closing her eyes, listening to the humming of the engines and the propellers above and hoping it would be enough to lull her to sleep, given that there was nothing else to do. Her adrenaline was fading fast now that boredom threatened to overtake her.

She closed her eyes and drifted off, the chaotic motions of the helicopter rocking her to sleep.

_ Grace opened her eyes, jolted awake by shrill yelling.  _

_ “GRACE?!” shouted the voice, immediately causing Grace’s heart to sink. Footsteps sounded in the hallway. “GRACE?!” _

_ No no no no no…  _

_ Grace’s brain immediately went into panic mode. It wasn’t something she could control. Her vision started to tunnel and her heartbeat picked up. _

_ She ran through the list of her chores. What was it she hadn’t done? A glance at her clock told her it was 5 am. Her aunt’s insanely early morning routine would be just beginning. _

_ The door flew open and Grace clutched her blanket reflexively. _

_ “The dishes,” her aunt bit out, towering over Grace as she sat on the bed. “You told me you’d do the dishes last night.” _

_ That’s what she had forgotten. Crap. Her stomach growled as she quickly stood up, untangling herself from the blankets. _

_ “I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “I didn’t have dinner, that’s why I forgot… I was just so tired…” _

_ “If you don’t do as I say, you’ll never have dinner tonight again,” her aunt hissed. “I took you in after your father died and I pay to feed you and clothe you and I give you a nice place to sleep, and this is how you repay me?” _

_ “I just forgot,” Grace said. “I’ll go do it now.” _

_ “Good. Then clean the bathroom. Once you’ve done that, you can make breakfast. I have some ladies coming over for brunch today. One of them is a close friend to the royal family so we need something nice.” _

_ “Okay,” Grace sighed, her stomach growling again.  _

_ Her aunt, who had turned to leave, whipped back around. _

_ “Did you just sass me?” _

_ “I-- no,” Grace replied, shaking a little despite herself. She was so hungry, and it was cold in her bedroom. “It’s just… I’m hungry.” _

_ Her aunt gave a nasty smile. “Well, you should’ve thought about that before you decided to ruin my clothes,” she said. _

_ “I told you, it was an accident,” Grace whined, under her breath so that she thought her aunt wouldn’t hear. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been as quiet as she’d thought. Her aunt smacked her soundly on the cheek. Grace turned her head and squeezed her eyes shut as the pain radiated through her head, but she didn’t dare flinch any more than that. She knew her aunt saw it as a sign of weakness. _

_ “You’re useless,” her aunt spat in her face. “You’re a worthless little brat. That’s all you are now that your father’s dead. I should just send you out into the streets. See how long until you come running to me, begging for me to take you in again.” _

_ Privately, Grace thought that the streets might just be better than this. But she kept it to herself. She had already guaranteed herself another day full of chores and no meals; she didn’t want to make it worse.  _

_ Her aunt left her alone after that, needing to get ready for her friends’ visits. Grace pulled on the nicest clothes that her aunt would let her have, which made her presentable enough if one of her friends happened to see Grace sulking around the house. The people her aunt and uncle associate themselves with have all come from the prominent families in Angeles. She'd sometimes hear them boast about how they'd be having dinner with some nobles which Grace wondered whether that might be true or not. _

_ Her cheek stung, tears welling up in her eyes. But she couldn’t cry, that would look even worse than flinching. And it would be so much harder to get rid of the evidence. Grace collapsed back down on her bed, opening the drawer to her nightstand and finding her one precious possession, the one thing she had kept to remember her parents and her old life, hidden in a roll of socks. _

_ A hairpin, covered in glittering diamonds. Grace clutched it to her chest, willing the tears to stop streaming down her face. It was the only thing she had to remind her of her mother. The gorgeous rose gold pin embellishing diamonds in Hera Lee’s straight brown hair, her father helping her twist that hair into a perfect chignon adorned with the same pin she held.  _

_ Holding the hairpin was the only thing that could calm her, brushing her thumbs across the diamonds, pressing the outline of the pin into her skin.  _

_ Once the tears had stopped threatening to fall,Grace left for the kitchen, her mind boiling over with anger now as she went. But she shut it off like she always did. She had to. _

_ An hour later, the smell of greasy bacon frying almost made Grace cry. She hadn’t had anything to eat in so long, and she was still used to a softer life. It hadn’t been that long since her father had died, and she was used to three meals a day prepared for her, gourmet meals eaten out with her father and his associates, and sometimes her father cooking her mother’s old recipes, which tasted bittersweet with memory. _

_ Grace sank back into the memory, remembering a cozy Sunday morning back when she was little, when she’d crawl into her parents’ bed after she had nightmares. Her mother would hum one of her songs while she smoothed down her hair, hoping she could go back to sleep, while her father held her tight, whispering a story that he’d heard on set from one of his co-stars or telling her about the plot of the movie he’d been hired to star in.  _

_ It was always safe and warm there, and Grace had never been afraid. She’d just been surrounded by love. _

_ The smell of burning bacon brought her sharply back into the present, cursing and looking down at the stove where the seven strips of bacon she’d been cooking were all black and smoking. _

_ Grace cursed, desperately trying to salvage what was left of the bacon. It was no good, they were ruined. But she didn’t feel as scared of the fire as she did when she heard her aunt’s footsteps in the hallway. She reflexively straightened, her back as stiff as a board. _

_ “Grace Lee, why do I smell something burning?” _

_ Grace winced, and that was all it took for her aunt to seize the spatula and smack her hands with it, causing Grace to cry out in pain as the hot oil hit her skin. The metal spatula didn’t help, leaving sharp red burn marks on the backs of her hands. _

_ “Shit,” her aunt yelled. “Shit! Look what you’ve done now!” _

_ Grace couldn’t see, collapsing to her knees, holding her hands to her chest.  _

_ “Now you really are useless,” her aunt said. “Get out of here. I’ll make breakfast for my friends myself, because you clearly can’t do anything right. Just go to your room, get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you.” _

_ Grace didn’t move, the pain in her hands still making her vision go red at the edges. She cried, freely letting the tears fall onto her hands as if that might cool the burning on her skin. _

_ “I said move, you worthless bitch!” her aunt shouted, slamming her hand down on the pan. Just before the pan fell off the stove and onto Grace, the hot oil spilling onto her… _

“Grace?” 

Someone was shaking her shoulder. Grace immediately reacted with fear, shrinking back into her seat and covering her face with her arms. She didn’t want another burn.

“...Grace?” the voice said more gently, and Grace opened her eyes to see Bea standing over her, concern filling her brown eyes. "Grace, come on. We have to go in as fast as we could, they're holding off the rebels."

Grace’s heart started beating even faster as she took in her surroundings. They were still in the helicopter, but it was on the ground. There was a cloudy evening sky outside, and Grace was one of the few people left in the helicopter. Bea was there, standing right in front of her, and Ajay had apparently stopped on his way out and was now regarding Grace with concern as well. It was extremely dark and they could hear yelling from the distance and Grace realized what was happening.

“...yes?” she asked, trying to act casual.

“You okay?” Bea asked.

“Yeah. Just startled,” she said. “I forgot that I fell asleep.”

Bea smiled fleeting, but it was clear that she wasn’t really happy with Grace’s response. "Come on!"

_ It’s okay, _ Grace told herself.  _ You’re not back there. Aunt Mei can’t do anything to you anymore. _ It was almost like she was comforting the fourteen-year-old that she used to be, who lived her life in fear, who couldn’t even imagine a future.

Grace took Bea’s outstretched hand, gave Ajay an unconvincing smile to insist that she was okay, and they climbed out of the helicopter together towards a group of the palace guards waiting to escort them through the gates. Bea stopped in her tracks and Grace made the mistake of following her eyes only to see dozen guards struggling to fight off a group of men in the darkness, only the light caused by the gunshots could be seen along with the cries of pain and loud orders could be heard.

She pulled at the girl's hand, an attempt to distract her from the trance she was in. "Bea, hurry up!"

"Your Highness, we have to get you through the gates!" One of the officers called frantically.

Grace saw the glistening in Bea's brown eyes as she took one last look at the guards before letting Grace drag her through the gates, which were shut closed tight as soon as everyone walked through. Everyone stared at the huge metal gate in shock. 

"Tell them to retreat," Bea spoke shakily, looking breathless. The princess looked around desperately at the guards around them, who seemed equally shaken. "Tell your colleagues to retreat-- they'll die out there!"

"We can't do that, Your Highness," they heard Frank's voice as the general ran down the stairs that led to the parapets above the gates. "They have to make sure there won't be any rebels that could sneak in."

"But--"

The general's eyes softened. "Your Highness, please. Just go inside. We'll make sure they won't be able to go in."

"Bea, let's go," Jordan whispered, a solemn look on his face and looking around, Grace realized everyone had suddenly gone quiet.

Frank gestured for the officers to walk them forward and their group moved ahead to the distance from the gates to the huge palace far ahead.

As soon as the doors to the palace were opened, the King Father was standing there. He looked more pissed off than Grace had ever seen him.

“Beatrice,” he said. Bea’s eyes flashed between her grandfather and Ian, who looked sympathetic.

Bea barely had enough time to say goodnight to everyone before her grandfather was already dragging her off, Vizmund at their heels. Skye watched the princess go, eyebrows furrowed in worry knowing what Bea would be walking into. The redhead took a few steps forward as if to follow the princess but Maria held her back, shaking her head. Grace grimaced, then steeled herself to face the suitors.

“Okay,” Grace said. “Goodnight, everyone. I’ll make sure your butlers know to bring dinner back to your rooms.”

A chorus of  _ goodnight _ 's followed, and the guys all trailed up the stairs. Grace gave the redhead girl an assuring smile before Skye walked up the stairs. Only Ajay lingered behind, looking like he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

Grace folded her hands, playing with the strap of her bag.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ajay asked eventually. Grace couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she said.

“Alright,” he said doubtfully. “It’s just that when you woke up, you looked so afraid. It can't be worse than the scene you woke up with but…”

“I must’ve had a bad dream,” Grace shrugged. “It’s whatever. Anyways, I saw you asleep on Rory’s shoulder. What was that all about, hmm?”

Ajay rolled his eyes. “Clearly I’m friendlier in my sleep than while I’m awake.”

“I think Rory’s your new best friend,” Grace said, cracking a smile. 

“Ugh,” Ajay snorted. “Well, anyways, I should get to my rooms. I need to clean up before I eat. I, uh, enjoyed today. Helping all those people. You make a good partner.”

Grace smiled bigger. “You too. It was fun.”

Ajay nodded. “Alright, well… goodnight, Miss Grace.”

“Goodnight, Sir,” Grace said, then watched Ajay as he walked away.

As soon as she turned back around, though, a pair of blue eyes met hers.

Owen was on duty to guard the front doors. He must have seen her entire conversation with Ajay.

Not knowing what else to do, Grace just nodded at him, then fled into the kitchen to escape to her quarters.

***

"Is she back?" a familiar voice asked as Bea entered the door.

Bea was led into the study to find her Great Aunt Elle and Uncle Stefan waiting and sitting among the accent chairs near the window. The old woman gasped upon seeing her, they both stood from their chairs. 

"Beatrice, darling, you made it," her Great Aunt cried and Bea met her halfway with a tight hug. "We were so worried."

"Just barely." Her grandfather grunted. The old man headed near the windows, pacing. 

Bea gave her grandfather a wary look before turning to the Duchess. "I'm safe, Auntie. Is something wrong?"

"There were rebel sightings in the city. They must be anticipating your arrival." Ian, who had been leaning on the doorframe, answered with his arms crossed over his chest. "Good thing Frank had his men prepared when they saw your helicopter coming and the rebels started coming out from the shadows."

"Is that why we were dropped off by the gates?" She asked.

"You think so?" The King Father demanded. "You were lucky to even make it out to the city in the first place! Those men will die out there because of you! Do you ever listen to a word I say, Beatrice?"

"You never told me I couldn't go." Bea defended.

"I didn't, but you still decided to take matters into your own hands. Is that it? Are you aware of the security risks you put us all under?"

"Teddy, that's enough." The Duchess intervened.

"No, it is not enough. This girl," their grandfather pointed an incriminating finger at her. "This stupid, reckless girl will be the death of our entire line. I knew the moment I saw her, she will take after her father's naive and blinded outlook in life and that's how she will be--

"It is not blinded, Grandfather." Bea cut him off. "And with all due respect, don't bring my father into this. He saw what everyone in this palace refused to see and he tried to do something for it. You wish you were half the man he--"

She felt the sting on the side of her face before she realized what just happened. Her mouth dropped open and tears threatened to fall as the pain spread across her face.

"No!" Ian surged forward, pulling her away from their grandfather who had a murderous look on his face. Ian scowled and for a minute, Bea thought he would hit the old man back.

"Theodore!" The Duchess put a hand on her brother's arm, pulling him back.

"You don't get to talk to me that way." The old man warned, shrugging his sister's hand off him and pointing an incriminating finger at Bea. "Know your place, girl. You don't get to disrespect me in my own house."

Bea glared back defiantly, clutching her stinging cheek. "This is  _ our _ house, and we have been nothing but respectful to you all these time despite the fact that showed us nothing but contempt and doubt on everything we do!"

"Because you are both childish, and immature and I don't see you growing to be the ruler this country would need and want. You were never born into this, and you will never compare to all the kings before you."

A tear rolled down the side of her face, but Bea wiped it off quickly. A part of her heart was breaking every time he spoke a word but she had to brush it off, like she'd always do. "Your idea of a ruler is far different from what the country needs. I may not be turning out the way you were expecting me to be but I care for my people and you better believe I will follow my heart and listen to their voices because I am tired of how this country was being run. I am tired of being a sheep and smiling as if I see nothing wrong. By right, I'm already Queen but you couldn't bear the idea of anyone--  _ especially a girl _ \-- sitting on that throne and leading the people to a different path than you desired so you kept me on a short leash to make yourself believe that this country was still under your rule."

The King Father laughed, his voice dripping with mockery. "Without me, this country would have fallen a long time ago. You can act as tough as you pretend to be, you'll always be the same clueless child destined for a role far bigger than you bargained for."

"Look into my eyes, Grandfather. Look into my eyes and tell me it is a child you see."

The old man met her defiant gaze but didn't respond. He looked away, gritting his teeth. 

"That's enough, both of you." The Duchess stepped in, eyes darting between them. "It's late, and we've all been feeling overwhelmed."

"Come on," Ian put an arm around her back and led her over to the chairs, giving her a sympathetic smile. 

Bea sat heavily, her breath coming in short. She didn't even know she was holding all that in until she felt the words coming out of her mouth. 

"She was right, Ted." The Duchess spoke. "I don't see how she did anything wrong here. She wanted to help the people and she did."

"Because it was you who let her go with that stupid plan in the first place." The King Father retorted. "Now they'll be expecting us to come running whenever they whine about problems they could easily handle on their own."

"It's not whining if you listen close enough. You weren't there." Bea sighed. "You didn't see what we saw down there. There was almost nothing left for them!"

"And what exactly brought that on?" He asked. "Their military's lack of vigilance?"

"They don't have enough force to drive off the rebels, Grandfather."

"They've been asking for assistance on extra military men, Theodore." The Duchess confirmed. "Duke Alvarez will be needing more after what happened."

"The Southern was rumored to be home to the rebels and it's also the same reason we receive close to no help at all." Uncle Stefan added. 

"Did anyone ask you, Stefan? This does not concern you." The King Father snapped, making their uncle step back a little. "What are you even doing here?"

"I was worried about my niece."

"As you see, she's back in one piece. Now you can leave."

Their uncle opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. He shook his head at Bea and Ian, the look of shame on his face, before walking out the door. 

"Now, as for you," the old man turned to Bea once more. "One more stunt like this and I'll make sure your friends get to suffer the consequences since you are so brave and untouchable."

"That won't be necessary." The Duchess replied just as sternly. "I'm sure Beatrice gets your point now."

"Is she?"

Bea looked away from his incriminating gaze and nodded. The last thing she wanted was to put Grace or any of the others in more trouble than she already had. 

"You know what I'm capable of, Beatrice." The King Father trained her one last look before storming out the room.

The Duchess shook her head in exasperation. "Alright. That's… been dealt with."

Bea and Ian let out the breaths they didn't know they were holding. Her brother gave her a worried look. "You okay?"

"Yes," Bea nodded. She quickly wiped her cheeks, putting on a brave face as she took a deep breath. "I'm good. It's nothing."

Even though she looked unconvinced, the Duchess nodded. Her chest was heaving erratically and Bea was worried it was too much for the old woman's heart to handle.

"I'll… I'll be fine, Auntie." She gave the Duchess a sad smile. "Get some rest, please. I already kept you up too long."

"I'll make sure Bea gets to her room safely." Ian agreed.

Bea wanted to refuse. Aside from the fact that she wanted to be alone, she also doesn't need help going up to her floor. "Actually, Ian, can you help the Duchess to her room? I can go on my own."

Her brother hesitated. "I-- You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Bea nodded. "We'll talk in the morning."

"Breakfast by eight," The Duchess reminded her, a knowing look on her face that said she could see the storm inside Bea. "Keep a brave face on, my darling girl. Don't let them see your tears."

Bea smiled and hugged the woman one more time, then her brother, before walking out the room. Vizmund perked up from his spot in the hallway and immediately ran to her side.

She didn't run, but she didn't dare stop walking until she was behind the doors of her chambers and that was when the tears started falling. Bea sunk on the floor beside her bed, curling up in a ball and burying her face on her knees as she let it all go, feeling the white dog lean against her as his attempt to comfort her.

Her grandfather's words rang inside her head.  _ This stupid, reckless girl will be the death of our entire line! _

_ Know your place, girl… you will never compare to all the kings before you… you'll always be the same clueless child destined for a role far bigger than you bargained for! _

Every word was accompanied by a sob. Bea had to cover her lips so the guards outside her doors won't hear her crying. She cried until there were no more tears to fall and her cheeks started to dry. With one last shaky breath, Bea headed to the bathroom to wash the last remnants of her tears from her face.

***

The next morning, even though Grace was really hungry, she was hesitant to head to the kitchens. For one, she was still exhausted. And for another, she knew Owen would be there, ready to scold her for running off with Bea or for talking to Ajay.

She rolled over and tried to ignore her growling stomach, but after a while she gave into the hunger, wrapping her robe around herself and steeling herself for whatever confrontation waited for her in the kitchen.

As she’s predicted, Owen was calmly sipping a mug of coffee when she arrived, and he narrowed his eyes at her almost as soon as she walked in.

Grace immediately wanted to walk back out, but she knew she had to face the music.

“Had fun playing noble for a day?” Owen started, the lack of sleep he’d had from being on the night shift causing an edgy tone in his voice.

“I was helping my friend,” Grace said, crossing her arms. “Bea invited me as a friend, and how could I say no?”

“How many times do I have to remind you, Grace? She’s not your friend. She’s the Princess, and she’s your boss. It’s not appropriate for you to run off with her, especially when you’re acting like an equal to her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grace asked, getting defensive despite herself.

“Not wearing your uniform, for one,” Owen pointed out. “And then flirting with the suitors in her Selection, for another.”

“We were all dressed down, if I was in full maid garb I would’ve looked so suspicious to the Honduraguan people. Also, I don’t know what you mean by flirting. I simply said goodnight to the guys.”

Owen shook his head. “Gracie, I know you think you can save the world, but you can’t. It’s admirable that you want to, it’s one of the things I love about you. But it’s just not realistic for you.”

Something about the way Owen said the word  _ love _ made Grace’s stomach twist.  _ Did he really love me? Was this how people treated the people they love? _

Grace just shook her head. “I’m not trying to save the world, I know I’m too low of a caste to help anyone. I was just following the Princess’s orders, okay?”

“You’re still too close to her,” Owen complained. “You can’t trust her not to turn her back on you at any moment.”

An alarm bell went off in Grace’s head. “I have to trust her,” she said slowly. “She’s gonna be our Queen someday. And I would trust her with my life. She’s one of the best friends I have.”

Owen sighed, seeing that he was getting nowhere. He quickly switched gears into something Grace wanted to talk about even less.

“But don’t think I didn’t see the way you were looking at that Ajay guy,” Owen said, his face getting even more angry. “I can’t believe you’d have the audacity to even talk to him, much less flirt with him so brazenly. Especially in front of me.”

“I wasn’t  _ flirting _ ,” Grace said indignantly. “I was saying goodnight. He just stuck around to ask if I was okay.”

Owen ignored this. “Grace, I know that I’m in an upper caste, but you’ve gotta know I’m an exception. This Ajay guy… he’s never gonna be able to know you and your life like I do. He’s never gone without anything in his entire life. I can’t believe you think a guy like that would fall for someone like you. Much less the fact that he’s literally one of the Princess’ suitors.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but I  _ wasn’t flirting with him, _ ” Grace said through gritted teeth. “I’m allowed to talk to people. He’s a nice guy, we’re starting to be friends. You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t talk to or be friends with.”

“I’m your boyfriend,” Owen said exasperatedly. “That’s exactly what I’m allowed to do.”

“You’re my  _ ex- _ boyfriend,” Grace corrected him. “I never officially got back together with you when you came back, and now I’m seeing why that was a good decision. You don’t own me, and if we were dating you would try to.”

Owen looked like he’d been punched. “So I… we… after everything I’ve done for you? Everything we’ve been through together?”

“It wasn’t an easy decision until now,” Grace said a little softer. “I loved you, and when you came back I thought I could build up and love you again. But I just can’t. You’re too controlling, and I know it comes from a place of caring, but I don’t want that.”

“But what about all the times we kissed?” Owen asked, starting to get desperate. “What about all the times we spent together? You’re just gonna throw that away?”

“You know I loved those parts,” Grace said, staring down at her feet. “But I… it’s just over. I don’t feel that spark anymore, you know? And whenever I go over to your room, I feel like I’m just using you to forget.”

If it were possible, Owen looked even worse than he had before. His hurt blue eyes shone back at her, weakening Grace’s will.  _ Is it really that bad? _ Grace asked herself.  _ Can’t you just give him another chance? _

A lesser version of herself would’ve bent to that. But Grace summoned up all the courage she had to turn on her heel and walk away.

Tears threatened her as soon as she closed herself in her quarters, silently thanking her roommate’s soldier boyfriend for keeping her occupied and out of the room so Grace could be alone. Not even knowing what she was doing at first, Grace pawed through her dresser.

_ What am I looking for? _ she asked herself, then as her fingers found the cover of her journal, she knew.

_ Mom’s hairpin _ , she realized.  _ Where is it? _

The last time she had worn it was… oh, god. At the King Father’s birthday gala. The one that had ended in smoke and blood and–

Grace started throwing things out of the dresser, unwrapping every pair of socks and unfolding all of her uniform shirts and pants as well as her small collection of clothes for days off.  _ It has to be somewhere _ , she told herself. She couldn’t cope with the idea of having lost the last connection she had to her family.

She was so focused on her task that she didn’t notice Bea knocking at her open door, but froze when the Princess peeked into her tiny room.

“...Bea?” she asked, well aware that she looked a little frazzled.

“Hi,” Bea said back. “Um… you looking for something?” The princess’s eyes tracked the mess of uniform clothes and underclothes all over the floor.

“Um, just… my journal,” Grace made up quickly. She took it out of its spot in her dresser and waved it, faking a smile. “Found it!”

“Oh, okay,” Bea said, looking a little suspicious. “Um, do you need any help cleaning up?”

“No!” Grace said a little too insistently. “No, uh, but thank you. Did you need something?”

“Not really,” Bea said uneasily. “Just wanted to check in with you this morning. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Grace said. “Thanks for checking in. You? I hope the King Father didn’t yell at you too much.”

Bea rolled her eyes and sighed. “I guess I just have to deal with the fact that he and I are never going to see eye-to-eye.”

“He’s a lot taller than you,” Grace managed to joke, and Bea cracked a smile. It was nice to see her smile, especially after all the great work she’d done yesterday. 

“I’ll get a stool, then,” Bea decided. “Alright, come on, let’s clean this up. It’s almost time for breakfast, and we have a hell of a mess to take care of.”

When the princess turned, she caught sight of a reddish patch on her jaw and Grace's eyes widened. "Bea? What happened to that? Did he hurt you?!"

Bea looked away, covering her cheek. "It's nothing."

"I'll get some ice. Stay here!"

  
  


***

  
  


Breakfast was more quiet than usual despite the fact that the head table had been full lately with the presence of the Duchess, their uncle and Danielle with them.

Everyone ate their meals in silence. The seats of the twelve suitors were becoming more distant from one another as more of them got sent home, which was probably for the best. Bea couldn't help but notice the tired looks on Ajay, Rory, Michael, Caleb and Jordan's faces considering the trip they'd all been to just yesterday. 

Once finished, the King Father grunted an excuse and left to the study to start his work. Bea wasn't that far behind, she missed a lot yesterday, so she had some catching up to do with the work her grandfather must have piled in on top of her desk. She had a date with Michael scheduled later that day and hopefully, she would have a little time to do extra materials in between.

By nine-thirty in the morning, there was a scheduled meeting with the advisors and the main discussion was the situation in Honduragua. Bea sat attentively among them and focused on important matters being talked about. 

She didn't have time to make a proper presentation, but she managed to get a hold on Erin and asked for some of the footage and pictures taken while they were there. She showed them the destruction from the fire and an overhead view of the refugee camp along with the huge number of Honduraguan citizens who lost their homes and properties.

The advisory council was a group of dukes tolerating each other in short periods of time for the sake of politics, serving as the parliament of the country. Most of them don't really agree with the other. During the entire meeting, Bea couldn't help but notice the exchange of dark looks between the Duke Lewis of Likely and Duke Elton of Belcourt. She always thought they didn't like each other, but the glares were especially nasty today. Still, Bea made a good case for Honduragua and managed to convince the board to approve the financial aid for the restoration of the city. Not even Duke Crandall could argue with it once she got the approval of more than half of the council.

When the meeting was adjourned, she headed back to her desk to finish her remaining tasks. Bea worked through the papers she found on her desk that morning as quickly and carefully as she could. After last night, she couldn't afford to let herself slip and mess up in front of the King Father, so she made sure not to miss any details and to take notes on every paper she went through.

Working helped Bea take her mind off the previous night. Her grandfather knew how to bring out her insecurities and it won't be easy to get rid of the voices inside her head for a while.

With the files she ordered from the Royal archives, Bea sat back on a lounge chair in the garden with her flowery wide-brimmed hat as she read through the files and a pitcher of cold refreshments nearby. She had been there as soon as she finished lunch with her family and the suitors and told the guards stationed nearby to never let anyone bother her.

Which didn't really work when she felt the presence of another person nearby. At first, she thought it was a maid. She knew Grace had been busy so she was ready to dismiss any other.

"Did the King's study get too stuffy for you?" She heard a familiar voice and Bea instantly relaxed. Skye looked around the setting Bea had made for herself.

A single wide lounge chair, a huge umbrella, an outdoor table and a pile of folders on top with the pitcher of lemonade and some glasses.

Bea smiled from underneath her hat, scooting a little to give the redhead some space on the lounge chair. "Just doing some extra reading. You're welcome to keep me company."

Skye sat on the edge, head tilting a little as she looked at Bea and her eyes narrowed a little. Skye reached out and traced her cheek gently, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Did you put some ice on that?"

"I, uh, Grace did," she looked away, embarrassed. She tried her best to hide it with Grace's help, she didn't want anyone else to see it. "I thought I put enough concealer on it."

"You did," the redhead agreed. "I just know my marks and I know you don't wear thick enough makeup unless you're hiding something. Is it still hurting?"

"Not as bad as last night."

Skye nodded in understanding and didn't ask more and Bea was grateful for that. Instead, Skye turned to the folder on her lap. "I thought that was a gossip magazine. What are you reading?"

Looking around, Bea made sure there was no one nearby before she spoke. "Remember that guy who saved us during the attack?"

"The one who shot his fellow rebel in the head?" The girl asked. "Kind of hard to forget that."

"He's the one." Bea grimaced at the way Skye described it, which made the girl snicker. She flipped through the first page where Julian's military file headshot was pasted. "He was my older brother's best friend… and he showed up to me in Honduragua."

Skye kinked an eyebrow. "How… did he end up among the rebels?"

"He became one of the Captain of the Royal Army years ago. Then he was sent to the war in New Asia where he and his company supposedly died."

"And he didn't."

"Apparently." Bea nodded. "Julian managed to make it back alive but was captured by the rebels and ended up recruiting him."

"Isn't that against his honor code?" Skye asked. "Joining the very same side you swore to protect your country from?"

"They're the South rebels, Skye." She clarified. "It's either you join them or they kill you. This or that. I can't blame Julian for choosing the first one but he couldn't find a way out."

There was a thoughtful look on Skye's face. "Hmm… that's intriguing. I think you're onto something."

"I am." Bea admitted. She glanced at the guards, and they were still a good distance away from them. After yesterday's impromptu trip to the South, Bea knew her grandfather had doubled her security detail to make sure it doesn't happen again. She looked at Skye and studied the girl's face. "Would you read with me?"

Skye rolled her eyes, but there was that maddening smirk on her face that always gets Bea every time. "Fine. I supposed I have a few minutes to spare."

"Right," Bea gave her a teasing look. "You like spending time with me, admit it."

"I won't admit anything." The redhead shook her head. Skye climbed the lounge chair and position next to Bea since it was wide enough for the both of them. Once they were leaning back side to side, Skye turned and found there was very little space between them. "So, tell me about… these. What's a South rebel, I didn't know they were different kinds."

"Oh, um," Bea nodded, shaking her head and taking her eyes away from Skye's and towards the folder on her lap. "There's only two, so far. The North, and the South. They've been in the country since Solari was founded and the royal family established their reign. According to some previous findings, they stand up for two different things as well and they're actually distinguishable by their way of causing chaos."

"This is all news to me," Skye said. "The attack from months ago was the first one I've ever been in. Lakedon was well-armed and it's either the snow or the intimidating number of our military forces made it less palatable for them to attack."

"Might be." Bea agreed. "There were the Northern rebels. They only attacked the palace, or did public protests on town squares. They hated the caste system and the discrimination that came along with it. Their attacks were… annoying, at most, but never as deadly as the Southern's."

"So the previous attacks were the South?" 

"Yes. It's obvious their goal was to take down the monarchy. Meaning…"

"Kill the Royal family." Skye finished the sentence. The look on her face said how the idea doesn't sit well with her. "Setting the bar very high on that one."

"They've succeeded a few times." Bea said. "You've seen their way, they weren't playing. They leave bodies behind and I saw first hand that they wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger on someone. Whoever that is. Anyways, there have been changes lately that I didn't realize until my talk with Julian yesterday."

She reached over the table and pulled out the hunting knife hidden among the folders.

Skye was taken aback. "Is that--?"

"It's the knife the attacker pointed at me that night. This symbol," Bea traced a finger on the cross-like symbol etched on the hilt. "Was supposedly the North Star." 

"I'm guessing that has something to do with the North."

"It's their symbol, according to my father's research that I managed to dig up from the archives. They have a saying,  _ Follow the North Star _ , and it was supposed to be a way to recognize the members. They managed to gather enough supporters in their cause and I admit, it's not an unreasonable one. My dad took interest in the Northerners when he noticed people from court wearing the North Star. He had a journal with the same name detailing his findings and… and his plan to reach an accord with them."

"You're saying your father wanted to make peace with them?"

"Yes. King Alan had plans for this country, Skye. He had plans to change a few things that he thought were causing all these rebellions that are keeping the country from moving forward by itself."

She could see Skye trying to take in everything she said. "When you say he planned to change things, what did he mean by that?"

"He wanted to take away the castes. Give people the freedom to choose their own paths."

"I don't think that would be easy."

"It won't be. He was aware of that. He tried to reach out to the Northerners and tried to gain their support. I don't know what happened."

"It wasn't in the journal?"

Bea sighed. "He didn't get to finish the journals, and I don't think I could ask the Northerners either because apparently, they were all dead."

"Not all," Skye shook her head, nodding to the knife in her hand. "Your attacker from that night."

"I know. It bothers me, Skye," she looked at the girl. "That person was trying to get a confession from me about a crime my family had committed. I'm worried my family had something to do with the downfall of the Northern rebels."

"No," Skye disagreed. "I think you're worried your father had something to do with it."

"He's not that kind of man, but who knows. We weren't there. We didn't know what happened. What if they reacted violently when the King tried to reach out and he had to fight back? What if…" Bea sighed, bowing her head. "If only there was someone who was there back then and could testify for what really happened."

"Have you checked the records? He would have sent men over to negotiate with them."

_ Records! _ Bea looked at Skye quickly, eyes widening. "You're right. I don't think he'd put it on official records, though, but I know who I can ask."

"There you go," Skye smiled.

"I didn't think of that," she beamed at the redhead. "I'm so glad you found me. I'd be driving myself crazy thinking about these files over and over and wouldn't have thought of that. You know I could kiss you right now."

"You could?" The girl froze, turning her head to Bea. She met the redhead's wide-eyed stare and their faces flushed at the same time. She watched the way Skye bit her black-tinted lips sheepishly, then cleared her throat that caused Bea to blink her eyes and look away. "Let's read more about these, um, these files." 

"Right, I… that's what I was saying." Bea nodded, fixing the hat on top of her head to break the awkwardness before focusing on the files on her lap. 

The said focus only lasted a few seconds before the image of Skye biting her bottom lip slipped back into her mind and her heart rate picked up.  _ My God, why am I thinking of Skye like this? _ Bea could feel the warmth spreading through her neck and cheeks. She prayed to the heavens that the redhead next to her wouldn't see it. 

"Are you okay?" Skye asked, her voice unusually low and raspy, which didn't help the fast beating in Bea's heart.

She risked a look and found the girl already looking, hair falling down like a red fiery curtain on one side and Bea had never felt so compelled to reach out and brush the hair out of Skye's face and behind her ears. 

Skye gave her a questioning stare and without thinking, Bea reached out and brushed the curtain of red hair behind Skye's ear. The movement brought their faces a lot closer than before and there was something about the way the pair of blue eyes had been pulling her in, like some sort of magnetic field too strong and far beyond her self control, that made Bea realize she doesn't want to pull away from. 

Her gaze trailed down the light freckles on Skye's cheeks, features that she'd noticed before and thought were adorable. The redhead’s eyes flicked down to Bea’s lips and then back up to her eyes again, and Bea almost unconsciously did the same thing.

She acted on impulse, slowly leaning towards the other girl. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing, but the closer Skye’s face got to hers, the faster her heart had been beating. Bea’s fingers ghosted over Skye’s hand, not quite daring to touch it, and her lips were almost touching Skye’s when she was startled by a loud sound coming from the garden behind the wall of vines that gave them a little privacy.

"Ow!" Michael's shout caused them to flinch away. "My toes! Dammit!"

Bea shut her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to control her erratic heart beating. When she opened them, she found Skye biting her lip but refused to meet her gaze. She took her hand, squeezing gently. "Skye."

"Mhm?" The redhead gave her a brief guilty look.

"I…" she faltered. Just looking at the girl seemed to melt any words or reason in her head. "I-I should probably check that out."

Skye nodded without a word. Bea almost reluctantly pulled farther away from her and sat up, craning her neck to see what happened.

Michael was limping as he headed to where they were but he grinned and waved at them despite the occasional wincing he gets on every step. "Hi, sorry about that. I might have hit one of the pots over there and I hope the gardener doesn't kill me for that."

Bea and Skye exchanged awkward glances, which didn't go unnoticed by Michael. "Hey, Skye! Didn't know you'd be here."

"Hey, Michael." The redhead greeted back as casually as she could.

"So, uh," Michael turned to Bea. "Ready for our date?"

Skye whipped around to face her, her eyebrow arching. "You have a  _ date _ ?"

"Yes, I… we do," Bea stuttered a little.  _ Beatrice! _ Her subconscious practically yelled.  _ Get a grip, lady! _ "Michael, why don't you wait for me by the front doors? Then we'll go to the west courtyard for your skateboarding lesson."

"Sounds awesome." The guy agreed before returning to where he came from.

"So you have a date," Skye smiled ruefully. "Right after we almost…"

"Skye…" Bea sighed heavily.

"It's fine, Bea. We can forget anything even happened." The girl reached out for Bea's hand and kissed the back. Skye's dark lips lingering a bit longer on her knuckles before giving her that smirk. "Enjoy your date."

_ Enjoy your date? How can I possibly have fun and enjoy my date with Michael after that? _ Her mind wanted to scream. Bea doesn't know what was happening. One minute they were discussing the rebels and the next they almost…  _ kissed… _ and she was surprised to find it in herself that she wanted it to happen. 

After taking a few more cleansing breaths, Bea leaned down and pressed a kiss on Skye's cheek then stood up, fixing her dress to make sure she looked presentable. She smiled down at the redhead. "I'll see you later, Skye. Hold on to those for me?"

"Sure."

Bea waved goodbye as she walked away, looking back once more to see Skye had gone back to reading. But judging from the lack of movement in her eyes, she knew Skye's mind wasn't really into it.


	19. It's Not That Simple

Michael held her hand the whole time, both her feet were on the skateboard as the tiny wheels rolled and she balanced herself on it.

"And you say you do tricks with these?" Bea asked, smiling despite the fear of it from rolling off from underneath her. She lightly kicked on the ground with one foot, and the skateboard moved a little faster, making her giggle. "How can you even do tricks on this thing? Aren't you scared of miscalculating your movement and scraping yourself on the pavement?"

"Well, that's part of the fun. It takes time and serious skills to learn the tricks." Michael grinned. "You're just learning now. But I'm sure if you grew up using a skateboard, you'll want to attempt as many tricks as you can."

Bea continued doing light pushes on the ground with her left foot and her right foot balanced on the top of the skateboard. They went farther and farther down the walkway in the courtyard, and her smile widened, feeling a little pride in herself for being able to balance on it so well.

The pride she briefly felt was replaced with horror when Michael suddenly let go of her hand and Bea cried out for him as the board moved too fast from her previous push.

"Hey, come back!"

Michael laughed. "You know you won't be able to learn if I held your hand the whole time, right?"

"I'm not trying to be a professional skateboarder here!" Bea protested.

She wanted to plant a firm foot on the ground to stop it from moving but failed as her hesitation made her leg wobble once she set it on the ground while the other trembled a little, causing the board to slip faster from underneath her. 

"Oh my god!" Bea yelped.

Michael caught her before she fell backwards on the ground completely, the skateboard rolling away on its own. "Oof-- Okay! That's enough skateboarding for you, Princess."

Bea stared after the skateboard, bewildered, as her heart seemed to want to beat out of her chest from almost falling embarrassingly on the ground. Once she recovered, Bea couldn't hold it in herself and started laughing at her own antics. "Well," she paused, her laughs subsided into giggles. "At least I can tell people I've been on a skateboard."

"As much as I wanted to teach you more, you'll end up having scrapes all over your legs with just that pretty dress you were wearing and Miss Maria will kick me off the palace herself if that happens." Michael helped her steady herself, checking her for any injuries they didn't see. "Well, how is your first experience on the skateboard?"

"It was exhilarating," her smile came back, and she knew she meant it. 

As a princess, there were limited things she was allowed to do and learn. She didn't even know that skateboards were still around, not after the destruction of practically everything from the most recent world war that happened a hundred years ago. Even if they were still a thing, no one in their right mind would give a princess something that could potentially cause her injuries. 

"I told you so," Michael said. He ran ahead to catch up with the skateboard and put it on a carrier backpack that he could sling on his shoulders. When he was done, he went back to her side just in time for a maid to rush over with two bottles of cold water for them. He let out a laugh.

"Oh, hi! Thank you." Bea smiled at the maid, who curtsied in return then went back to wherever she came from.

Michael whistled. "Wow."

"What?" She asked. Bea opened her bottle and took a swig.

"I'm just not used to having people coming over when I need something." He said, looking a bit bashful for once. "My friends wouldn't believe me if I tell them I let the Princess use  _ my _ skateboard and have a maid deliver us drinks after."

"Trust me, I didn't know they would be there," Bea shook her head. "Most times, I'd dismiss them especially if I knew I'll be fine on my own."

"It's cool," he shrugged. "I just didn't want to get used to it."

They started to walk around the grounds, passing by nobles and palace residents hanging out under the late afternoon sun. Michael had one hand on his pocket, as per usual, and Bea was actually glad he wasn't as handsy on her as some of her suitors had been. She felt comfortable with him, like she was with Caleb or Jordan, and most of all, she felt safe with them.

"Well, that's palace life for everyone," Bea said, turning to look at him. "How's the palace life going for you so far, Michael?"

"A lot better than I imagined." He grinned. "My parents didn't care whether I sent an application or not. We're not exactly rich, but we're doing well enough in our life that they let me do what I really like in life."

"Aw, that sounds nice."

"I know. So it came as a surprise to them when I told them I went to the city state office to submit my application."

"Really? But you didn't strike me as someone who'd want to be locked up in a big gated palace and be surrounded by… " Bea gestured around the palace. "Stuffy nobles?"

"You're right about that, but I wanted the challenge. My life in Dakota was fun, but I wanted to see more and I also wondered how I would fare with twenty-nine other guys. I made it this far, so I guess I'm doing just fine."

"You're an interesting guy, Michael Harrison." Bea nodded, smiling.

He smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment." 

They came across a group of men dressed in fine suits making their way out of the palace. They bowed respectfully once they saw her and Bea recognized a couple of them as the Duke of Denbeigh whose name she couldn't quite pronounce and the other was Duke Franklin Bennett of Dakota. She'd been in a countless number of meetings with them by now and she had grown friendly with some of them. Bea could even say that Duke Franklin was the coolest among them, one of the youngest too, who was probably in just his early forties at the moment. 

"Your Highness," the man bowed smoothly, an easy smile on his face that awfully reminded her of the way Michael does when he was planning something devious. "Pleasant afternoon to you."

"And to you, Your Grace," Bea returned.

The Duke turned to the guy next to her and his demeanor changed subtly. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Michael."

"Sir." Michael said curtly.

Bea looked from the guy to the Duke facing him, confused. She knew Michael was from Dakota, Duke Franklin's home province.  _ So why are they acting so stiffly around each other? _ She had seen the other suitors interact with the leaders of their provinces and they were all genial to each other.

"We were just heading out to the airport," The Duke continued, talking to her this time. "Have a pleasant evening, my lady. I admire your drive to help Honduragua and don't tell anyone, but I fully support the aid."

She beamed. "Of course, I appreciate any help you can offer, sir."

"Until next time, then." The Duke bowed one last time and the rest followed, but not before shooting Michael a look she couldn't understand.

The group climbed on a luxurious car waiting for them and she and Michael watched it drive to the gates. 

Bea turned to Michael curiously. "What was that about?" 

"What was what?" Michael asked, looking innocent.

She opened her mouth to ask him about the strange interaction he had with the Duke but Bea decided against it. "Nothing, I guess."

He smirked. "Okay, then. Where to, next?"

Now that Bea thought of it, she really didn't have anything planned for their date. It was Michael's idea to teach her how to ride a skateboard but she didn't get to plan anything after that. Even if she did, she doubted she would have remembered it after that thing that almost happened between her and Skye. 

Bea couldn't help but blush once it crossed her mind, so she shook her head and racked her brain on what she and Michael could possibly do that he hadn't done in the palace yet.

The gardener passed by, pushing a lawn mower with him and an idea came to her mind. She looked at Michael with a big smile.

"Oh, no," Michael laughed. "What are you planning?"

"Come on, I have something to show you." 

She nodded her head towards the west, where the main palace garage was located. She rushed ahead through a maze of bushes on the courtyard to cut the distance and Michael ran to catch up with her. The garage was located a bit distance from the Palace, on a hangar-style building with a wide roll-up door that could easily fit four passing trucks. 

"Whoa, where are we?" Michael asked, looking around and up the building in awe.

Bea held on to his arm and pulled him towards the building. "You'll see!"

The garage building had three entrances that looked the same with a pair of guards stationed to patrol the perimeter. Once they got there, Bea made her way over to the closest door they could find and found it was the area where they keep the military vehicles and palace service cars. The door was up, and the guards showed a bit of surprise when they saw her coming over with a suitor in tow, knowing Bea doesn't really go out there at all. The trio of mechanics working on a truck stopped what they were doing and hastily bowed at the sight of her. 

"Your Highness," One of them greeted.

"Hi, good afternoon. Please, continue what you're doing," Bea gave them a pleasant smile. "I was just showing Sir Michael around the garage."

"Of course! Of course!" Another one nodded quickly.

Michael grinned and nodded at them before following Bea farther inside, his eyes darting from one vehicle to another. 

"I didn't know the palace stores so many military trucks in here." He murmured. Michael stopped at a particularly nice looking black Jeep and ran a hand on the gleaming hood. "Man, this one though…"

"They're mostly used for transport, especially if they were needed somewhere really fast." Bea told him. "And yes, they were rarely used. But they were necessary, in case, you know… were suddenly under siege."

"During the attacks?"

"The rebels attack the palace so they only fight on foot."

"Right, so other places." Michael said distractedly.

Bea let him move from one vehicle to another and watched with a barely contained smile as Michael looked like a kid on Christmas day. He examined each car and trucks with interest, carefully running a hand as if he was afraid to touch them.

"How did I not know this place had been here all along?" He asked.

"Not a lot of people go this way, only the maintenance personnel and the military guys in case they'd be needing a transport." Bea pointed at a nearby truck's chassis. "And they're made from bullet-proof steel."

"Of course they do," if it was possible, Michael was grinning more excitedly. "They had to be perfect."

"Unless they'd get bombed from the under, yes."

"Yeah, yeah, details."

Bea rolled her eyes playfully, catching his arm again and pulled farther inside to a hallway leading to another part of the garage. Everything inside was a combination of old world and modern technology. The place was supremely well-ventilated and well-lit, with climate controlled technology to protect the vehicles inside from any natural damage and a sound system despite the fact that there weren't many people inside to listen to any music. The light painted walls and marble flooring were kept pristine at all times.

She was actually looking forward to showing Michael their next destination, which, judging from his reaction upon seeing the garage, he would definitely love. So she led the way past the door to the security and surveillance office and towards a pair of sliding glass doors that will open to the most private area of the garage. Next to it was a security scanner that only recognized a few people, namely her family and about two authorized mechanics who work on maintaining the good conditions of the vehicles inside. 

Michael walked ahead and practically pressed his face to the glass door as he saw the collection of fancy and luxurious cars behind them. "Look at these…"

Bea laughed, pressing her right hand on the scanner and the machine beeped and lighted green, signalling that the doors will slide open. There was a click and the glass doors parted for them. 

She gestured for Michael to enter before her and he didn't need to be told twice. Like the gallery on the sixth floor, their great grandfather didn't hold back on his collection of cars that ranges from sports, to formal to just downright fancy. Some of the cars were made during the old American time that were mostly gone or extinct by now, just a bunch of wrecked cars they found on an abandoned junkyard after the World War that the late King had restored back to their former glory. The rest of the collection were from foreign brands like Germani, France, the former United Kingdom, Japan and more European countries that Bea couldn't be bothered to name.

Michael walked down the aisle in the center slowly, trying to take in the different car models around him. "Some of these brands don't even exist anymore. How did your family get a hold of these?"

"Who knows, international connections, maybe?" Bea shrugged, just close behind him. She pointed to a royal blue sports car on the far end. "That one was gifted to my older brother Leon on his eighteenth birthday by the Royal family of Germany."

"And he didn't even get to use it," Michael turned to look at her. "In fact, you can't even use any of these."

"Yes, and I don't even know how to drive, to be honest." Bea admitted. 

"We should fix that!" Michael rubbed his palms together, looking around the collection.

"Oh, oh, no…" Bea shook her head firmly. First, she would get in big trouble if she drove around the grounds and second, all the cars around them were fast. Definitely not for newbie drivers who don't want to die before they reach their eighteenth birthday. "Bad idea! Do  _ you _ know how to drive?"

"My dad taught me when I was sixteen."

"Okay, but these weren't your regular driving lesson cars!"

"Hmm… maybe you're right." He sighed. His gaze landed on the far wall where three vintage motorcycles were displayed on an elevated platform. His green eyes widened. "Shut up! Is that a Harley?"

"What's a Harley?" Bea was completely lost. Still, she followed Michael who made a beeline towards the display and climbed effortlessly up the platform. She stayed on the ground, hands on her hips.

"I'm speechless." Michael gaped at the old motorcycle in front of him.

The motorcycles looked brand-new, like the two other ones, but in reality, they were about a hundred or so years old kept in great condition throughout the years to preserve their image and the origin of their brand. Even Bea was impressed so she wasn't surprised that Michael could be rendered speechless.

"I have a motorcycle at home," he said. "I know how to keep it in good condition but these…?"

"I always thought you were the car kind of guy. You loved our collection." She pointed behind her.

"I do, indeed. I've always been a motorcycle kind of guy but I know how to appreciate an awesome car when I see one."

"Of course you do." Bea smiled. "So, what do you think of our date so far?"

The guy turned to her, almost reluctantly, and sat on the edge of the platform with his feet dangling about three feet from where she stood. "Well, you showed me all these, and I think this was the most fun I had in my entire stay in the palace. Aside, of course, from our little sneak away trip yesterday which is almost equally as fun."

"Good."

"Did  _ you _ have fun, though?" Michael replied, his head tilting a little on the side.

"Of course I did. You were awesome to hang out with, Michael."

"I know," he grinned, not-so-humbly that she couldn't help but laugh. "You don't strike me as someone who'd enjoy a car show but you still did, and had fun doing it. I just couldn't help but wonder…"

Bea raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. "Yes?"

"I get the feeling like you'd rather be somewhere else." 

_ What? _

"Or, more specifically, with someone else."

Bea stiffened, but she tried not to show it. "What do you mean, Michael?"

Michael gave her a knowing look. "So, Lady Skye, huh?"

She felt the blood drained from her face at once. "Lady Skye?"

"I saw you with her." He shrugged.

"What did you see?" Bea dreaded to ask.

"Not a lot, but just enough, I guess," the guy smiled and jumped off the platform, landing a few feet in front of her. "To be honest, it all made sense to me now."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," She let out a laugh, hoping it came off casually. Bea didn't know where Michael was heading with this conversation, or if he truly saw what almost happened between her and Skye but if word got around that she was seen kissing a girl, or  _ anyone _ , that doesn't belong in her group of suitors, it would cause a huge controversy not only within the palace but also the entire country. 

Michael simply raised an eyebrow. "Bea, it's not a big deal. Besides, you're allowed to do stuff that you want, be with anyone you want. Also, it's Skye. I think she's a lot cooler than half the suitors you have."

_ Is he for real? _ Bea stared blankly at him. She still had no idea what he was getting at. It's either Michael doesn't understand the restrictions on her behalf regarding her marriage prospects as the future Queen. It was the whole point of the Selection: Find a husband, have an heir someday. She couldn't have the luxury or freedom to experiment and explore anything else, however she wanted to. "Michael, you don't know what you're talking about. Those kinds of things just don't happen, or not supposed to happen, especially for me."

"Sure, you're going to be the Queen."

"It's not that simple. And even if you didn't really see anything, once you tell people--"

"I won't." Michael said before she could finish her sentence. "Whatever I thought I saw… that you're definitely  _ not _ doing… I'll have you know that it's safe with me. I'll keep my mouth shut."

"How can I be sure of that?"

"How?" Michael looked offended by that, he reached out and put both hands on her shoulder as if he was about to give her a pep talk. "Listen, I respect you. More so than I expected I will. To be honest, I thought you'd be a whiny spoiled brat, but turns out, you're far better than that."

"Uh, thanks. I guess?"

"And you're not as stiff as most nobles around here. Hell, we just saw you break at least a dozen rules yesterday morning." He took a deep breath. "Okay, you know what, I know what it's like. To fall for someone that's… the society says you can't be with…"

"You mean…?" Bea whispered as if someone might hear them.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Indeed." He nodded slowly as she did the same, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding till now. "It pains me to think you have so little faith in me."

"Can you blame me, though?" Bea added. "How am I supposed to know you weren't going to use that to your advantage?"

"I guess you'll just have to see, then." Michael shrugged.

Bea had a feeling she really could trust him, but she still had to be cautious on putting her trust on anyone. She was a bit comforted after his little confession, knowing what she might be feeling around Skye wasn't as uncommon as she thought. 

"But I'll have to warn you," he continued. "You need to be careful. If that wasn't me, who knows who they'd tell."

"I… I know," Bea sighed, cursing her lack of self control for slipping like that, especially when the redhead was around. 

Michael looked around the garage and an idea must have come to his head. "Now, how about we take one of these bad boys out and take it out on a spin?"

She narrowed her eyes at him for a long time, calculating all the possible troubles they could get into before coming up with the decision. "That would be crazy, Michael. But yes, I'd like that red one, please."

They both turned to the direction of a sleek red convertible not far from them and exchanged smirks. 

Five minutes later, the sliding door of the private garage opened up and the convertible slipped past the stunned guards with Bea freaking out behind the steering wheel and Michael laughing at the look on her face. 

Her legs were trembling, and a few times she couldn't quite know which one was supposed to be the brakes or if she was stepping on something else. In result, the car would stall or stop suddenly, almost throwing them both forward if not for the seatbelts that Michael had insisted they put on, against his better judgement.

The car was sensitive, as if a little push and it would be shooting onward for a mile so Bea had to be careful. Michael was instructing her as she drove, but mostly, he was just entertaining himself at the scared look on her face or the people they pass by. They made sure to stay away from the beautiful gardens and kept on right lanes, which happened to be the paved pathways snaking around the palace grounds meant for people and not cars. 

The longer she sat behind the wheel, the more confident she got on driving and soon, they were speeding past more people. They reached the east grounds where the army were having their late afternoon training and Bea slowed down a little as the men gawked after their car. 

Ian was among them and his face went slack once he realized it was her behind the wheel, he fell in the middle of his push-ups and jumped to his feet. "Bea??"

"Hey, Ian!" She waved. "Michael taught me how to drive!"

"Wait!" Her brother scrambled to his feet. "I'm coming too!"

"Maybe next time!" Bea called before her hands gripped on the wheel once more and stepped on the accelerator. 

People would drop whatever they were doing and gaped as their car rolled by. Word must have gotten around by the time they rounded the palace because she could see people looking down from the upper windows in awe. At one of the balconies, Maria and Grace came running and leaned over to see what the fuss was all about only for their faces to be struck with horror.

"Hell yeah!" Grace cheered, a smile that was missing on her face the whole day was suddenly back just like that. The girl saw Maria's glare and dropped it. "I mean, what the hell?"

"Harrison, I don't know where you two got that car but I advise you return it this moment before you two get hurt!" Maria chided.

"Just one last spin!" Bea called after them.

She sped away before Maria could say anything else, laughing along with Michael.

"Oh, man," Michael shook his head. "I am so in trouble."

"You don't look so scared about that!" She said, giggling.

"Me? I'm having the time of my life! Not everyone gets to teach the princess to drive a sports car."

"I never thought I'd ever learn how to!"

Her hat must have flown behind somewhere and she didn't even notice. Through the window on the second floor, she noticed Skye walking in the hallway and Bea hit the car horn as loudly and as many times as she could. The weird sound wasn't usually heard around the palace so it easily caught the redhead's attention and Skye stopped to look out the tall windows and saw her.

"Hey!" Bea called out.

Skye rolled her eyes but she was smiling bigger than she tried to hide, mumbling something that Bea couldn't catch. "Eyes on the road, Your Highness!" Skye added.

"Yes, ma'am!" 

Michael laughed. "I think you've had a lot of fun. Let's get this back to the garage before your grandfather could send men to drag us off this thing."

"Fine." Bea agreed reluctantly but not before taking a wide swerve that caused the tires to screech a little. 

***

  
  


Bea looked up from the newspaper in her hand feeling a bit optimistic about the Selection for once.

She knew the poll could be senseless, since it was clearly based on speculations and media reactions they'd get from the footage and pictures about the Selection that were released on the papers or on the Report that hardly had anything to do with the majority of the population's opinion. Today, though, she was pleased to see that the actual likeable guys had climbed up the poll lately. It would be perfect if she managed to get rid of Brian on the second rank, but to see Ajay, Rory and the trio on the runner ups meant the people could finally understand why she chose to get close to these guys and not the obviously favored ones.

She set the newspaper on her night stand, calling out to the adjoining room in the Queen's suite where her own set of couches and the huge fireplace were located. "Grace? Are we ready to go?"

She went there to find Grace had finished eating her breakfast while Bea was getting ready on her own. 

"Yup," Grace looked up from the tray loaded with dirty plates. "Do we deliver this downstairs first?"

"We'll just hand them over to someone," Bea instructed. "I actually have something to tell you."

"Oh?" The girl smirked. "Is this about the files Lady Skye delivered over yesterday?"

"Yes. Did you check them?"

"Not really. I thought they were confidential."

The two of them stepped out of the bedroom with Vizmund in tow as the guards opened it for them. Bea paused for a few moments, giving the guards a grateful nod and continued once they got a bit distance away to make sure they wouldn't hear. "They were my father's research materials."

"And hot dead guy's profile." Grace added, referring to Julian. "I recognized his folder."

Bea stayed quiet for a bit, debating how to break her plan to the other girl. The fifth floor was mostly empty except for the occasional guards and cleaning staff, so she doesn't have to worry about eavesdropping nobles or guests. 

"I may have kept a little something from everyone since the recent rebel attack," Bea said slowly in a quiet tone. "Julian Castillo's alive."

The tray in Grace's arms wobbled a bit when her words sunk in. "You mean the hot guy who died during the war in New Asia? The one who's file sits in your cabinet?"

"Yes."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not," Bea shook her head to show the girl she was serious. "He ended up with the rebels, Grace. But he saved me and Skye during the attack when one of them was about to shoot us."

Grace gave a disbelieving look and Bea started telling her everything that happened after the attack, her investigation and Julian's appearance in Honduragua. She had to stop a few times when they got to the lower levels of the palace as nobles and officials came over to greet her. 

"Why didn't you tell me about any of this?" Grace seemed a little hurt.

"The first time, I hardly believe what I saw. I thought it was some sort of mid-panic hallucinations," she explained. "Then he showed up again and he told me what happened."

"What do we do with that information?"

"Grace, I think we actually have a shot in finding a way on how to get to the rebels." Her voice lowered once she saw her Uncle Stefan coming over and she smiled. "Uncle, good morning."

"My dear Princess," The man embraced her briefly. "You didn't join us for breakfast."

"I was walking Vizmund to the gardens," Bea made up smoothly. "He was quite restless this morning."

To prove her point, Vizmund started running around Grace in circles. Bea took note to give him extra treats for vouching for her.

"Oh, he's a sweet one," her uncle shot the white dog a wary look. "Anyway, are you heading to the study now?"

"Not today, Uncle. I actually finished my work yesterday."

"That's my girl." He grinned. "Well, I won't keep you from your plans since I myself have work to do."

"I'll see you around."

"You too, Beatrice."

Bea kept her smile long enough until her uncle disappeared down the hallway before she put her focused face back on. "I found out my father tried to make peace with the North rebels before he died."

"Do you think it was them?"

"No, Grace, that's the thing." Bea disagreed. "The North rebels--"

"Bea!" Rory saw them walking down the staircase to the Great Hall, waving them over.

She looked at Grace apologetically and the girl groaned impatiently. The both of them reached the bottom of the stairs and noticed Ajay was also standing nearby. 

"Rory," Bea greeted them, smiling. "And Ajay, of course."

"Lady Skye!" Rory added. He grinned at someone behind them and she and Grace looked up to find Skye walking down the stairs as well. 

"Just Skye, please." The redhead spoke. Skye regarded Bea a glance and leaned over when reaching her. The girl whispered close to her ear. "You're dressed to kill today, Bea."

"Skye," she managed to say as she felt goosebumps run down the side of her neck caused by the girl's warm breath. Bea could see the ghost of a smile on Skye's dark lips.  _ Oh, boy _ … "You're smiling today."

"I wasn't." Skye denied, she put a hand on Bea's elbow as she passed but not quite holding her hand, walking until she reached Ajay's side. "What are you talking about?"

Bea shook her head, rolling her eyes playfully. She faced Rory. "What's up?"

The guy produced a bunch of envelopes and held them out in the air. "Apparently, these letters were sent from Honduragua."

"Wait, really?" Her smile widened.

"Oh my god, the children!" Even Grace couldn't help but reach for one when she saw the messy colorful handwriting. "These are from them?"

Skye got one of the letters and ripped it out, revealing a white piece of paper with lots of crayon drawings and thankful words in Spanish. 

"These are so cute," Bea sighed, checking one of the envelopes as well. She held it up to show a messy drawing of a girl with a crown and a few people with her. She read the words below it. "The princess and her friends."

"They got Skye's red hair right." Grace noted. 

"They should," Skye smirked. "I taught them to draw."

"When did these arrive?" Bea asked, looking from Rory to Ajay.

"This morning, I think?" The former replied. 

Ajay nodded. "They came through the mail and a servant handed them over to Miss Maria. She thought you'd like to see them."

"Is it okay if I keep one?" Grace asked.

"They weren't addressed to anyone in particular." Ajay said, just amused as everyone. "Just the princess and her friends."

"Of course, Grace." Bea agreed.

"Good, 'cause I'm really keeping this one." Grace hugged the letter to her chest.

"Does this mean more help came for them?" Rory grinned.

"I talked to the council, the crown will be providing financial aid regarding the rehabilitation of the city and some of the dukes promised to help as well." Bea informed them. "Señor Alvarez called yesterday to personally thank us for the help that had been coming from all over the country."

Skye raised an eyebrow. "And you just told us now?"

"I--" Bea was about to respond when she saw that same knowing look on Skye's face. "I was distracted, okay?"

"By what?" Grace was instantly curious.

"Yeah, do tell." Rory joined in.

Bea blushed a little under their combined stares. "Work."

"Right." Grace agreed. "She spent the morning staring up the canopy of her bed."

"Grace," she hissed.

"I was there, I joined her and we both stared at the canopy of her bed together."

Skye had that infuriating smirk on her face again and Bea doesn't know how to feel about it.  _ Later _ , she thought.  _ She'd have to ask Skye what was up with her later _ . 

Bea rolled her eyes. "Well, fine. I have a lot of things in mind."

"Anything we can help you with?" Rory asked, ever the gentleman.

"I'm good, Rory. But thank you."

"A bunch of us will be down in the theatre room to watch a movie or two," Ajay said. "You're both welcome to join. Even Skye was going."

"You will?" Bea raised an eyebrow.

"I am?" The redhead asked at the same time.

"You did promise you'd try and hangout with us," Rory teased. "You're not backing out, are you?"

She watched the exchange between the three and she couldn't help but smile. "Grace and I have matters to attend to but I'll see what I can do. We might pass by for a bit."

"Oh, I can't," Grace was hesitant. "I, uh, I have some work down in the kitchens. I promised Greg I'll help him."

Ajay looked disappointed. "Perhaps next time?"

"Sure."

"Let's go, Grace," Bea waved at the three before leading the other girl away.

They headed to the throne room, which was being refurbished for the next coronation which won't really happen until a few months. Grace slowed down a bit as she put the letter in the pocket of her uniform. Bea realized she got one as well, but her rose-printed wrap-style dress didn't come with pockets so she had to hold on to it.

"Where are we heading, exactly?" Grace asked when they came out to the door on the other side of the throne room.

Bea looked around, and it was like Vizmund had been doing the same. His tail wagging back and forth in the air and basking in the attention of everyone they happen to pass by.

"I got a few questions for Frank." Bea replied.

"Is this about the North Rebels?" Grace asked. "No more distractions around so please spill."

She stopped walking, trying to think which part they were when they were interrupted. "Where was I again?" 

"You don't remember?" The other girl shot her a look. "Damn, you've been really distracted lately. What's with you?"

"Nothing." Bea shook her head adamantly, averting her eyes before Grace could pick up on something.

To be honest, she doesn't even know where her mind has been wandering lately.  _ You knew exactly where _ , a voice in her head said. One moment, she was thinking about her plans and next, Skye was all over her head.

She couldn't stop thinking about the redhead girl. It was like something in her was triggered by that almost kiss and suddenly, every stare, every smile they'd share all the time that she thought were nothing more than friendly exchanges started to make sense to her in a different light. 

Just the simple thought of Skye had sent her mind and heart into chaos and Bea didn't know how it started this way. 

"Who is it?" Grace narrowed her eyes. "Did you do something with Michael yesterday? Or is it Rory again? Like that one time in the hall--"

"No!" Bea denied immediately. "It's not that."

"Hmmm…" the girl murmured, not buying it.

She rolled her eyes. "Anyways."

"Yes, anyways." 

"The North Rebels had fallen for a long time now and we didn't even notice." 

"Wait, what do you mean fallen?"

Bea looked around to make sure no one was nearby. "Julian told me word had it, that they've been killed. Supposedly by the Royal family."

Grace's eyes widened. "What, your family committed some sort of genocide? Bea, do you know--"

"No, I don't. I couldn't believe it as well." She looked down at Vizmund as he licked her hand, asking for attention. "That's not all. My father was interested in making peace with them, earning their trust to the crown. I read it from his journal."

"Wow," Grace blinked. "That was a lot of information in one morning."

"Just bear with me, Grace."

"Okay, what else?"

Bea ran her hand down the dog's white fluffy fur. "I don't believe they're all dead either. The knife found in my old room after the attack--"

"The one you bring with you all the time and put under your pillows when you sleep?" The girl clarified.

"Uh, yes. That's the one." She nodded. "That engraving on the knife's hilt was the North Star insignia."

Grace gasped, Bea could almost see the gears working in her head. "So that's it! He demanded for a confession!"

"Shhh!" Bea tried to shush her. An older lady looked over at them weirdly. "Not so loud, Grace."

"Sorry," the girl mumbled sheepishly.

"Dad appointed Frank only months before they were killed," Bea continued. "If there's anyone he trusted that might know something about his plans, Frank's the first one I'm going to talk to."

"Are you sure about this? More importantly, does the King Father know about this?"

Bea pursed her lips and Grace nodded. "Might be for the best if he doesn't."

"Jeez."

"I know." Bea gazed out the windows in case the General was just outside but there were only the guards. Up ahead, she spotted a certain lady talking to a gentleman with the Carolina emblem on his suit. "Lady Payton?"

"Where?" Grace looked around frantically, then beamed once she saw the lady as well. "Oh."

Lady Payton turned and smiled instantly when she saw them approaching. "Hi! Good morning, Bea, Grace."

She was about to open her mouth when Grace had beaten her to it. "Lady Payton, your hair looks really pretty today."

Both Payton and Bea raised their eyebrows in surprise but the lady took it graciously. "Thank you, I always do it this way."

"You do?" The girl asked, her smile not going away.

Bea shook her head, not knowing what to say. "Good morning, Payton." She said instead, ignoring Grace's unsubtle staring at the lady. "I hope you're having a good one?"

"I have, thank you for asking," Payton nodded. "You two looked like you were looking for something. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I was wondering if you know where Frank is?"

"We just had breakfast." The lady said. "He headed to his office after."

"Of course," Bea smiled. "We'll be headed there right away. Thank you, my lady."

"Oh, I'm glad I could help." Payton waved her hand. "I'm sure he'll be there in a while."

"Thank you!!" Grace waved back enthusiastically that Bea had to take her arm and drag her away.

She gave the girl an unimpressed glance. "You are such a weirdo."

"What?" Grace shrugged. "She's really pretty though."

Bea let out a whistle to call Vizmund who had wandered off the far end of the hallway. The dog perked up and ran back to her side as they made their way to Frank's office.

His office was just on the first floor of the palace, the  _ administrative _ part of the entire place where offices for high-ranking nobles and government personnel were located.

As expected, they were met with men in crisps suits and their respective provincial emblems milling around and walking in groups, having deep political conversations that Bea would rather not join at the moment so she stopped before they were seen and turned to Grace. 

"We can't talk to him in his office." Bea frowned. "Can you send word that I'll meet him outside?"

"Okay, you'll meet him out the main doors," Grace exchanged nods with her and walked farther into the administrative hallway without another word, heading to the General's office as if she had done that a million times before.

Bea didn't wait for either of them to come out, she made their way outside via the main palace doors with Vizmund in tow. The dog was more than happy to be out there under the sun, he immediately ran to the grass to chase anything that had been flying low on the ground but still stayed within her sight.

She watched him play for a few minutes, her attention darting from Vizmund then to the cars that rolled in and out the palace gates in the distance. 

"My lady?" She heard Grace's voice followed by their footsteps. "General Frank."

Bea turned and smiled. "Good morning, General."

"Likewise, Your Highness." Frank bowed. "Grace told me you called for me?"

"Yes," she nodded, shooting the other girl a smile. "Let's walk, shall we?"

She knew Frank spends good hours in his office before checking on his men and their training on the east grounds. Still, the general agreed and trailed after her obediently. Grace stayed as well, keeping a good distance behind them but she knew the girl was listening.

"I hope we're not keeping you from your work." She spoke when they reached a good distance from the guards. 

"I have a pile on my desk at the moment, but I was curious what the crown princess had summoned me about." Frank replied.

"We won't be long, I promise." She looked at Grace, who raised her eyebrows behind Frank's towering figure.

"Well, how can I be of service, Your Highness?"

Despite the knowledge that they were surrounded by freshly mowed grass and trimmed bushes, Bea couldn't help but look around before she spoke. "I have a few questions that I'm afraid you're the only one I trusted enough to ask. Questions that I shouldn't ask in the presence of other people."

"Oh," Frank glanced at Grace, who was walking a few feet behind them. "Is Grace…?"

"I trust Grace with my life as well, Frank." She clarified. "Anything you say to me, I trust her with it."

"If you say so." 

Bea paused a few dramatic moments before she continued. "I've been asking around lately, and it wasn't enough with any reliable sources so I hope you can answer them as truthfully as you can."

Frank nodded. "I'll try my best."

"Okay, what can tell me about the North Rebels, General?" 

There was a silence following the question. Bea looked up and studied his face, she could see how much he tried to muster an unreadable face but it didn't slip her notice the look of surprise in his eyes. 

"Nothing that we haven't studied about during the lessons."

Bea shook her head. "I wasn't talking about the general knowledge we all have about them. I'm asking what happened to their clan and why have they disappeared?"

"My lady," there was a wary look on his face. "You cannot go asking questions like these to anyone. Think about your safety."

"I did." Bea agreed. "And it somehow led me to even more questions that I'll be needing answers with. I know my father trusted you with this information, I have his journal. So please, Frank, tell me what happened to them."

He looked around, somehow, they managed to stray far from the palace and were actually heading towards the majestic garden situated at the front of the palace where man-made lake shaped like a giant sword was lined with marble statues and well-cropped topiaries, a view that every vehicle and people coming in and out of the grounds had to pass by and see. 

The bright Angeles sun illuminating the water made the surface glitter almost like a mirror. 

"Your Highness," Frank interrupted her wandering thoughts. "Does… did the King Father know about this?"

"Frank, we all know that he either doesn't care or approve of me taking interests regarding these kinds of matters," Bea pointed out. "So, no. I'd rather he doesn't hear about this as well."

The general had a conflicted look on his face. "I'm not sure if this is a good idea. Your father entrusted me with his life and his family's, and I failed on protecting them. I won't make the same mistake for  _ your _ life and let you bargain your safety by asking dangerous questions that could lead you to dangerous answers."

"Would you rather I look for answers myself then?" Bea sighed. "I'm not sure where to start, but I could always find a way to obtain those information without your input, General. But I know you'd rather be there and make sure I won't go looking for answers somewhere else."

She saw the look of utter defeat on his face, knowing she was right about that. Frank nodded reluctantly. "I supposed if I can't stop, the least I could do is make sure you do it the right way."

"Exactly." She turned to Grace with an impish smile that the other girl returned.

The general sighed heavily. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Bea said. "Everything there is to know about my father's plans that has something to do with the Northerners."

"I don't know a lot of things, my lady, but I do believe he had good intentions when he planned to reach out for them."

"How did it go?" Bea asked curiously. "His interaction with them."

"You know your father, Bea, he can talk it out in his own gentle way even the most temperamental person." The general smiled. "He mentored me through the first year of my service in the military. I don't know what he saw in me, but he vouched for me even when we flew in the middle of war."

Bea remembered that time, when their father left to see the situation in New Asia and was gone for almost a month or two. Everyone had been worried, especially their mother the Queen, since Leon was barely a young man and Bea and Ian were only eight years olds.

"As far as he managed to tell me, his attempt of making peace with the northerners was going well." He added. "King Alan went up North to the rebels' compound on a secret trip. We didn't hear about it until we found out he was already there. Your… surprised trip in Honduragua kind of reminded me of that."

She gave him a wry smile. "Then what happened?"

"The King Father rushed back to the palace saying he got word that the Northerners were planning to assassinate the King while he was there. We sent troops over as fast as we can. I wasn't there with them, all I heard was that it ended up in a bloodbath and the King barely made it out alive. The King Father was so furious."

"My God," Bea took a sharp breath, closing her eyes as her mind came with all the possible scenarios that happened up there.

"That was the last we've heard from them. Your father was devastated." Frank said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "I know what he tried to do was for the sake of peace, but after that stunt, about half the Dukes and the rest of the council thought he was running on fool's errand."

She swallowed the lump on her throat. Bea felt a hand squeezed on her arm gently and turned to Grace who was looking up at her in concern. No wonder their grandfather had nothing good to say about his own son, still, she believed that her father's goals weren't unreachable. She just needed a chance to prove it to everyone.

"That's not the last you've heard from them." Bea disagreed.

Frank gave her a questioning stare, his eyebrows rose when she looked at Grace and the girl produced the North Star knife from her pocket. "So you finally found out about that."

"It took a while, but I knew I had a feeling this knife meant something." She said. "The man who attacked me that night, do you think he was one of them, the Northerners?"

"I suspected so."

"He was demanding for my confession, and he said  _ their _ deaths won't be for nothing, so I assume he was talking to his family."

He nodded a little. "I recognized it the moment my men found it in your room. But decided against mentioning it in front to the King Father without having an investigation myself."

"You did?" Bea was surprised. "What did you find out?"

"The Northerners' proclaimed leader, a man by the name of Demetrius had three sons that were killed along with him but there was a fourth child that remains to be unknown. Apparently, his wife and his youngest child weren't with them when the King's Guards killed everyone."

"You think it's him? The one who attacked me that night?"

"We didn't catch him, so we couldn't tell for sure." Frank shrugged. "It was my order that you have a security detail with you wherever you go, Your Highness. He could be anywhere, and it is my job to take your safety as my priority, and I advise that you leave this mystery behind to me."

"There's something else," Bea ignored his last sentence.

The general let out an exasperated breath. 

"My father didn't travel to the North on his own, did he?"

"No." He said after a pause, as if he wasn't sure whether it was a good idea to answer the question.

"Where are those men now?" She demanded this time. "I need to hear it from someone who was there the time they died what the Northerners really did to deserve that."

"Your Highness…"

"Tell me, General."

"King Alan went up North with just one man, a young soldier," despite his towering build, Frank gave her a wary look. "And he ended up in prison."

  
  


***

  
  


"Wesley Porter." Frank slid the folder across the table.

They were down in the Archive room, where important government documents that were no longer in use were stored in case someone would need them in the future. Frank, with Bea's approval, gained access to the room which usually takes a week or so to get the request approved if not for Bea's presence. 

Grace had to stay outside the room to avoid suspicion, but Bea promised to let her know what they found. Frank knew exactly where things were kept, especially the ones regarding any military business.

Bea looked down at the inconspicuous folder in front of her. The name sounded familiar for her and she had to think about it. "I heard of that name before…"

"You did." The general nodded grimly at the file. "You've met him."

Reaching out a hand slowly, Bea feared what she might find inside. According to Frank, this guy went into hiding after the disaster that happened in the Northerners' compound and was suspected to have been in league with the rebels himself. 

"You've been asking for this person," Frank continued when she hesitated. "I don't completely agree with your search for answers, but I hope this folder can provide you something useful."

She nodded, pursing her lips and turning the front cover to reveal a military profile the same as the one with Julian's.

There was a picture of a man on the top left, in full Solarian Royal Army uniform and a handful of medals on his chest. His dark brown hair was cropped, face clean but the look on his face put the pieces back together in Bea's head as she finally remembered where she had met him.

"Wes Porter," Bea mumbled. "He was in that cell close to Noah's."

"That's him." 

"He was a soldier?"

"And a well-praised one." He confirmed. "Porter was a very clever man, and he specialised in espionage that came in handy for our side when he was sent over to New Asia to gather intel from the enemy's side." 

"What made everyone think he had something to do with the attempt on my father's life?"

"He abandoned the King, in a dangerous place surrounded by the same rebels who were going against the crown."

Bea flipped through the pages. The folder was a summary of Wes' service and his merits in the military, and at the back was the part of his incarceration.

No wonder she felt a different kind of vibe when the guy was talking to her from his cell. He wasn't like all the other inmates who were either begging or just slumped on the corner as if they had accepted their fates. He was well-spoken, sharp-eyed, as if he had been studying her from that single minute they were talking.

"You can take it with you, Your Highness," Frank spoke. "I'll… tell the keeper we're done and no one will be looking for that file anyway."

"Thank you, I hope this helps."

"Please, Your Highness, be careful who you tell about these." Frank said, and she knew his concern was genuine.

"I will," Bea nodded with a grateful smile.

"Keeper," the general called for the man waiting outside with Grace. The latter walked in and Frank gestured him over to the farthest shelf as if he was asking for something.

Bea took that as her cue to leave. She closed the door gently and Grace peeked up from her place by the window, where she was watching the suitors playing soccer. 

"Did you get it?" Grace asked instantly.

"Yup," Bea waved the folder in front of her.

The girl took it from her and started flipping. "Hmm… he doesn't look scary but he seems intimidating."

They left the hallway before anyone could find them there. Word traveled fast within the palace, from servants to servants and later on, nobles to nobles alike. She couldn't afford to have her grandfather hearing a word about it.

"Vizmund?" Bea called.

The dog jumped from the corner he was napping on and following the two of them. When they reached the Great Hall, Grace took her arm to stop her. "I…is there anything you require my help with?"

"We can pore over this later this afternoon if you want," Bea offered. "Do you have stuff to do?"

"Uh, yeah," Grace nodded with uncertainty. "I did promise Greg to taste test his new recipe."

"Oh, okay," she let out a little pout. "I'll see you later, Grace."

"Don't go finding trouble without me." The girl shot her a smile before heading to the kitchen.

Bea watched her go, she couldn't help but feel that Grace had something she wasn't telling her. The girl also didn't hang around as much with her and Bea had been missing her. It did remind her of Ajay's invitation earlier and she decided she might as well join them since Grace would be gone for hours. 

But first, she and Vizmund went up the stairs to take the files to her suite. The dog was in a playful mood, so Bea played a little chasing game with him as they headed upstairs. The servants and nobles who would see them were amused, she caught one of the sentry guards smiling a little when Vizmund carelessly slid off the marble floor.

"Okay, that's enough playing, Viz," she laughed, ruffling his fur. "Let's get this to my room."

She realized they were still on the fourth floor and Vizmund perked up and started sniffing in the air. His head turned to the hallway of her old bedroom and ran towards that direction.

Bea tried to stop him but she froze when she saw a familiar figure pacing around outside the door of her old bedroom.

"Erin?" She called.

Erin Ward flinched, her head whipping to their direction like she didn't expect anyone to be there. "Bea?"

Walking closer with Vizmund, Bea looked from the girl to the locked pair of wooden doors, confused. "Looking for something?"

The girl took a moment to respond, staring at her before she smiled. "I thought for sure this was Prince Ian's room."

"Oh," she nodded. "His room is on the next hallway. That one was my old bedroom."

"I'm so sorry," Erin apologized. "I got confused."

"It's okay, I get that a lot." Bea laughed. She noticed Erin seemed a bit restless, her gloved hands gripping the digital camera on her hands. "What'd you got there?"

"Some stills he requested," the girl replied. "I was supposed to deliver it over to his room but…"

"I'm not sure if he's in his room at this hour. Actually, maybe you can take Vizmund with you? He can help you look for Ian. I have somewhere to be with the suitors and I'm not sure this boy could behave down in the theatre. My brother can just take him back later."

"Of course," Erin agreed, waving Vizmund over.

The dog liked Erin enough to obey immediately. Bea scratched the back of his ears before letting him go. "Be a good boy with Erin, okay?"

"He will be," said Erin before following Vizmund to the stairs.

Bea looked back at the doors, she was pretty sure Erin was trying to open them but she quickly shook that thought from her head. The hallway had been empty since she moved upstairs and Bea left to put the files away for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beatrice Everhart is gay??? the truth come out!!


	20. Love Can Take Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...but not that much time, apparently.
> 
> you're welcome.

There was already a movie playing on the giant silver screen once Bea made it to the theatre room. A bunch of suitors were seated out front, to the exception of Brian and Max, who probably had something better to do than hang out with the others. Each of them got a bowl of either popcorn or jelly beans. Ajay, for some reason, had a pack of what looked like rainbow goldfish on his lap.

She was about to walk down the aisle of stairs to the front row where the suitors were seated when she noticed a figure sitting on the back row. 

It was Skye, but she was seated in a darker area of the theatre that anyone could easily not see her if Bea hadn't felt the pair of eyes watching her.

Bea debated her choices for a whole second before making her way to Skye's row, taking the seat next to her. Skye smiled at her in the dark as if to tell her she made the right choice.

"What's playing?" Bea asked, leaning back.

"I didn't catch the title," Skye shrugged. "Some movie from years ago that Rory chose apparently."

"Is it any good?"

"The actor’s good, I don't know the rest of the movie."

Bea didn’t get enough time to watch movies so she didn't recognize the actor, although she felt like he had seen him before. "Who is he?"

"Some famous actor from several years ago named Jun Lee," Skye told her. 

"Oh, he looks cool," Bea nodded.

"I know." 

She reached for the bowl of popcorn in Skye's lap and she was surprised when she accidentally touched the girl's hand. A bolt of energy like lightning jolted through her hand and warmed her cheeks.

“Hey,” the redhead said, pretending to be angry. “Go get your own bowl.”

Bea raised her eyebrows. “But yours is right here!”

Skye just shook her head and smiled, then focused back on the movie. Bea tried to do the same, but she couldn’t keep her attention on the movie for more than a couple minutes, because every time Skye shifted in her seat or reached for another handful of popcorn, the movement startled Bea even though the two weren’t even touching.

“What?” Skye asked after Bea jumped for the fourth time when Skye’s sleeve brushed against hers. 

“Nothing! Nothing. Just… scary,” she lied, pointing at the movie.

“...It’s an action movie,” Skye said slowly, raising an eyebrow skeptically. Bea saw a hint of a smile on the girl’s face and blushed even harder, knowing that Skye was just teasing her.

“Yeah,” Bea said, desperately trying to think of something to back up her point. “That- the bad guy. He’s scary. I don’t like him.”

“I don’t know how you think anything is scary, Princess,” Skye laughed. “You face danger every day and you’re scared of a little action movie?”

_ I’m a little scared of you, _ Bea thought.  _ Of how I feel about you _ .

“Hey, I can be scared if I want to,” she countered, grabbing more of Skye’s popcorn to distract herself. 

Skye smiled, and the two lapsed into silence again, caught up in watching some of the guys throw popcorn at the screen and boo loudly when the protagonist said a cheesy action movie line.

They both laughed, and then Bea felt Skye’s hand on her arm. The girl had supposedly just held her hand out, but Bea knew it hadn’t been accidental that she’d touched Bea.

_ Okay, two can play at that game, _ Bea decided, and reached up to take Skye’s hand in her own, not fully comprehending the weight of the action before she did it.

Skye turned to look at Bea, her eyes full of surprise. Bea just shrugged, not really knowing how to react in Skye’s blue stare.

_ How are her eyes so blue? _ Bea wondered.  _ Even in the dark, I can still see them. Like a stormy ocean. _

Bea faintly realized that she and Skye might have held hands more times than they noticed, times they'd just reach out for each other without really knowing it, but there was something different about it now. For one, the connection between them was growing even more intense the longer their hands were linked. And for another, Bea realized that Skye’s pulse was fast.  _ Really fast _ . And Skye doesn't have to ask Bea if she felt the same fast beating on hers because she could probably hear the thundering inside her chest. Skye squeezed her hand, their fingers entwined and Bea liked the fact that they fit so good together. 

Skye turned back to the screen, but she was biting her lip to stop herself from smiling. "I really like this movie," she started, her voice low enough that only Bea could hear. "But somehow, I can't just put my mind into it because everything in me just centered on your hand holding mine."

"Skye…" Bea whispered, her eyes not leaving the face of the girl beside her and eventually Skye turned back to her with a thoughtful look. "Do you think… do you think we should talk about what… what happened between us back at the garden?"

Skye let go of her hand as she turned on her seat and reached out with it, cupping Bea's cheek with the gentleness that matched the look in her eyes. " _ Should _ we?"

Bea felt the words die in her throat as Skye brushed her thumb over her lower lip, the tender gesture causing the butterflies in Bea's stomach to flutter in chaos. Before she knew it, Bea was slowly gravitating towards the other girl, her eyes fleeting from the bright blue eyes and to the pair of dark lips not very far from her. She closed her eyes, a lame attempt to control the overwhelming feeling inside her chest that she knew wouldn't go away until she felt those lips on hers. 

Just like out in the garden, everything seemed to have melted away and it was only the two of them in their own little world. No palace, no crown to put on her head, no people to watch and dictate every move she does because there was only Skye. 

Before their lips could touch, the sound of gunfire went off all around them and they both jumped in their seats, pulling away from each other.

Just like that, they were sucked back into reality. The characters on screen were in the middle of an intense gunfight and the suitors were all captured by the action. When she looked over at Skye, the girl was leaning back on her seat with eyes closed, trying to control her own breathing like Bea. 

_ It almost happened again _ , Bea realized. And for the second time, she knew she wanted it to happen. 

She reached for the redhead's hand and twined their fingers again as she sat back, leaning her head on Skye's shoulder as they both tried their best to turn their attention back on the screen before anything else happens and risk getting caught by the handful of suitors watching a few rows in front of them.

Bea shifted a little and looked up at Skye. "Eleven tonight, meet me under the glass domed ceiling upstairs."

Skye didn't respond in words, instead, Bea noticed the subtle curving on the corner of her lips and the gentle squeeze on her hand.

***

It was one of those nights when Grace couldn’t get a song out of her head.

She sang along to herself while she worked, bopping her head to the beat. It wasn’t one of the songs she’d grown up hearing, but it was a song that had been played at the ball. The one Ajay and Bea had danced to, if she remembered correctly.

She remembered the way Bea had danced and tried to copy it a little while she was charged with cleaning the kitchen. Not the maid’s kitchen, but the one where the royal family’s food was cooked. Greg had to do the work of two cooks since they hadn’t found a suitable replacement for Chef Louis, so he made twice the mess and had no time to clean it up. He’d enlisted Grace to do it for him, and she happily took the opportunity.

It meant that she was more easily able to avoid Bea, and by extension, Ajay. Grace knew she was being silly: of course Bea cared about her. Maybe even saw her as a friend. But she couldn’t shake the things that Owen kept saying. He was right, after all. Grace was a Six, a lowly maid, and Bea was Princess of the entire country.  _ What benefit was there for Bea to befriend me? _

Most of all Grace felt guilty. Guilty for avoiding Bea, because she couldn’t sort through her own thoughts. She knew Owen was just looking out for her and that he was a natural cynic who was usually right, so it was hard to disregard what he said. But then again, hadn’t that been why she’d ended things between them?

It was too painful to think about. It was bad enough that she was trying to associate with people above her station. Compounding that was the fact that she couldn’t deny it: she missed Owen. Not the times he was lecturing her about friendships or acting appropriately, but… she missed being loved. She couldn’t even figure out if it was him that she missed, or just the idea of belonging with someone. 

_ Get over yourself _ , she told herself. She scrubbed a particularly stubborn dirty spot on the sink, easing her brain back into familiar territory.  _ Step step spin, pivot chassé.  _ The dance came back to her naturally, and she marked the steps, adding a silly shoulder shake or a hip wiggle just because.

The stupid spot on the sink wouldn’t come out, and Grace turned the water off, since it didn’t seem to be helping. As soon as she shut the water off, though, she heard barely-stifled laughter behind her back.

Not suspecting anything more than another maid or possibly a cook, Grace turned around fully relaxed, ready to laugh her silly dance off with the other servant. But it wasn’t another servant: it was Ajay, looking strangely casual in jeans and a sweater, his hair looking a bit puffier and curlier than normal since it wasn’t gelled back.

“Whoa,” were the first words out of Grace’s mouth. “Going casual for the day?”

Ajay looked down at his outfit as if he hadn’t noticed it before. “Yes, I thought I’d try a more Solarian style.”

Grace couldn’t stop herself from looking at his hair. It looked so soft. She kind of wanted to know if it felt as soft as it looked.

_ Shut up _ , Grace told that part of her brain, and offered Ajay a simple smile instead. “I like it. You look comfortable.”

Ajay’s smile dropped. “Oh no. Whenever someone says you look comfortable, it really means you look sloppy.”

“No,” Grace rushed to clarify. “I really do like your hair like that. Come on, who am I to be calling someone sloppy?” She gestured at her apron, which was soaked with the soapy water she’d been using to scrub the sink.

Ajay grinned again. “Okay, point taken. You look… comfortable.”

“Hey!” Grace joked. “Come on, I gave you a compliment and this is how you return it?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ajay said, holding his hands up. “Your dance just then was cute, though, if you’re looking for a compliment. I think I recognize some of those steps.”

Grace flushed. “So you saw that?”

“I did. I was hoping I would keep as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t know I was here.”

“Stalker,” Grace joked. 

“I already knew you were a good dancer,” Ajay said off-handedly. “I was hoping… and forgive me if this is inappropriate, but I was hoping I could dance with you again sometime.”

Grace froze as she tried to parse through his statement. What should she say?

_ Yes, I’d love to dance with you again. Why don’t we dance right now? _ Too risky, too forward. Someone could see them, then Ajay would be thrown out of the Selection and Grace would probably be whipped for treason. And dancing with Ajay, being near him... that wasn’t something she was supposed to want, anyways.

_ No. Please leave me alone. _ Not that, either. Even though it was probably the smart choice, Grace knew she really enjoyed Ajay’s company. 

Grace bit her lip, reading Ajay’s face to see that he already regretted his statement due to her silence.

“In another life, maybe,” Grace finally said, knowing it wasn’t at all the perfect thing to say. “I liked dancing with you, too, but I can’t just play noble every day. I have to remember my place.”

“And I should remember mine,” Ajay sighed. “I’m sorry for saying that. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“I think you’re under a lot of stress. The Selection isn’t easy, especially when so much is on the line.”

“My parents are definitely expecting me to try my hardest, to marry well,” Ajay agreed. “That’s the reason I’m here, in truth. There’s a lot of pressure from them to win, even though I’m not sure if I’m the right person to be Prince Consort.”

“It’s a difficult job,” Grace agreed, “but you’d get Bea, not to mention such a beautiful Palace to live in all the time.”

Ajay nodded, even though he didn’t look much happier. He seemed to struggle with something, then leaned against the counter and messed with his watch before speaking again.

“When I first came here, I… wasn’t very hopeful. My parents had an arranged marriage for political and financial gain, but they don’t like each other much. Nowadays, they’re fighting all the time. And if I don’t win the Selection, I know they’ll want me to marry some stranger later on, some rich and well-connected woman that I don’t even know. I’m just terrified that the rest of my life is going to be like that, you know? Trapped in a marriage where my wife and I don’t even like each other.”

“I guess you just have to win the Selection, then, you and Bea seemed to be getting along just fine.” Grace replied, not really knowing what else to say.  _ What was there to say? _

“I suppose,” Ajay mumbled uncharacteristically. 

A silence fell over them. Grace worried her bottom lip between her teeth, desperately searching inside her head for a conversation change. Ajay’s odd discontent at the idea of winning the Selection was causing some warm, possessive thing to grow in her heart, and that couldn’t be right.

“Um, so, random question. Do you speak Mandarin?” She cringed to herself. What an awkward thing to ask.

Ajay looked up. “ _ Yes _ ,” he said in perfect Mandarin. “I’m a diplomat's assistant to New Asia, of course I speak Mandarin.”

Grace grinned. “ _ I thought so _ ,” she replied in Mandarin, “ _ but I wasn’t sure. My father was New Asian. You guessed that a while ago, but I wasn’t ready to tell you yet _ .”

“That was probably too heavy for our first real conversation. What did your father do?” Ajay wanted to know.

“He worked in media,” Grace said, purposefully leaving it vague. Saying her father was Jun Lee, a famous celebrity in his time, would probably just raise a new bout of questions if she said that. “More so back in New Asia and in the first few years after he moved to Solari, but when he married my mom, he stopped working as much. Too busy with his family.”

Ajay narrowed his eyes a bit, and Grace realized she’d messed up. Even though she’d been careful to keep details away, of course Ajay would be suspicious that her father had stopped working once he’d married. Even women in lower castes rarely stopped working once they had children. They simply couldn’t afford it.

“Um, I meant,” Grace backtracked, trying to find a way around what she’d said. How had she managed to derail their conversation twice already? She was normally a decent conversationalist. It compared too much with her random blabbing in front of Payton for her to ignore the resemblance.

“I know what you meant,” Ajay said, not looking suspicious anymore but looking a little curious instead. “I always thought you hadn’t necessarily been born a Six. The way you act, the way you talk to nobles and to Bea without much hesitation, the way you knew how to dance and how you looked comfortable in the ballgown, like you’d done something like that before.”

Grace balked, the circumstances of her life starting to wash over her again.  _ How did Ajay know? _ Had I been so obvious about it? Her heart rate picked up and she started to panic a bit, the situation rushing over her like a cold current of air.

Ajay’s expression changed: clearly he had seen that she was starting to freak out, and he didn’t really know how to deal with it.

“Don’t panic,” he said. “I won’t say anything. There’s no reason for me to. And I won’t speculate about your life-- whatever happened to make you go from a higher caste to a lower one must have been painful, and you don’t have to tell me about it. In fact, I’m sure I’m overstepping already.”

He started to step back when Grace didn’t respond, assuming that she wanted him to leave. Instead, completely on impulse, Grace lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve, stopping him from leaving.

“It’s just… it is painful,” Grace conceded, still hanging onto his sweater. “And I want to tell someone, but I also don’t because I don’t want people treating me weirdly, and I definitely don’t want any pity.”

“There’s no rush,” Ajay said, looking into her eyes with a rather intense gaze. “We’re friends, right? You can tell me, or you don’t have to, but you can trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Grace found herself saying, recognizing that it was true. “And I trust Bea, but I haven’t told her. I don’t know, but I just don’t want her to treat me differently.”

“Do you think she would?” Ajay asked. “Because I can’t see her doing that. She’s… frustratingly decent, for a world where we generally can’t trust others.”

Despite herself, Grace laughed. “Frustratingly decent? That’s pretty good. When I first started working here, she was so determined to befriend me. I just thought she was lonely and friendless at the time, but no. She has such a big heart, and honestly, she’s my best friend in the world.”

“She’s so nice to all of the Selected,” Ajay added. “Even Brian, even though he’s  _ such _ a jerk.”

“That’s definitely an act,” Grace said. “But it’s a really smart one. And him and Max disregarded, I think she genuinely likes all of you. You’ve all become really good friends for her.”

“Which is why I hate to disappoint her,” Ajay said wryly. “Do you want some tea? I was going to make some.”

Grace blinked. “Yeah, sure, I’ll get a kettle,” she said. “What do you mean, disappoint?”

Ajay shrugged. “I’m just not sure if the royal life is for me,” he said. “Plus, Bea is a wonderful person, and she’s become a good friend of mine. But I don’t know if I’m in love with her, you know?”

Grace looked around, but the door to the kitchen had closed, and Grace knew the soundproofing was good enough that the guests couldn’t hear shouted orders in the kitchen. Nobody could have been listening.

“Love can take time,” Grace said. “I think it would be weird if you were already head-over-heels for her.”

Ajay calmly poured two cups of water into the kettle and set it to boil, turning back to Grace.

“Silva is. I can tell from the way he talks about her. And some of the other guys… I can tell they at least have some feelings for her. I can’t really tell if I do or not.”

The very unhelpful feeling in her heart started up again, and she couldn’t stop before it overwhelmed her, making her inexplicably happy that Ajay wasn’t as invested in the Selection as some of the other guys were.

“I don’t know,” Grace said, shoving the feeling down.  _ Get a grip _ , she told herself.

Ajay just shrugged and turned back to the kettle. He carefully poured the sachet of darjeeling in, clearly thinking about something.

But he must have decided not to say whatever was on his mind, instead calmly stirring the tea. Grace focused instead on his expression, the soft wave in his ungelled hair, his eyes focused on the kettle.

And then he turned to look at her and smirked, an eyebrow raised. Grace blushed for the second time in all the time they’d been talking but smiled back. She knew that the feeling in her chest was going to be harder to get rid of than she thought.

  
  


***

  
  
  


It was about ten-thirty in the evening when Bea snuck through the secret passage on the panel inside her room, wondering if the guards outside her doors were aware of it or it was something only the occupant of the suite had knowledge about. 

Grace had left her around ten after Bea had bathed and changed into her sleeping clothes, but once she knew the girl wouldn't be coming back, Bea immediately changed into a simple white summer dress and a robe over her shoulder and waited for the time to sneak out and climb to the sixth floor without any of her guards suspecting anything.

The passageways, as always, were a set of dark narrow hallways hidden behind the walls and places that the rebels wouldn't think to look in. So Bea grabbed a portable lamp from the cupboard in her bathroom and made her way over, feeling anxious yet looking forward to seeing Skye again.

With Wes Porter's file with her to read through while she awaits for the other girl, Bea made her way quietly up the single flight of stairs and unlocked the panel door that will open right on a hallway on the sixth floor.

Bea knew the floor would be empty. Not even guards were sent up there to secure anything since despite all the priceless collection of artworks and display of wealth the sixth floor had, it was too high up that it would take either an aircraft or a really long rope to scale the walls or sneak through the windows and balconies.

Still, she opened the door as quietly as she could, her steps light as she headed further towards the far end of the floor where the glass domed ceiling would be.

Bea set the lamp at the foot of King Maximo's seven-foot marble statue, next to the plaque where his name was etched in gold. He was their great-grandfather, the first Everhart King to sit on the throne and raised the country from the great depression brought upon by the recent world war and the ineffective governance of its previous Kings with his sunny disposition and easy personality. Or so she heard. In the end, all the grandeur and lavish parties that he was celebrated for, he wasn't a good enough strategist and leader to win the war against New Asia for his country.

"I still think you're a cool guy, Maximo," Bea spoke, looking up at the statue with a smile.

Thankfully, the statue didn't respond or else she'd be fleeing down stairs before he could even finish a word.

Bea leaned against the high pedestal of the old king's statue behind her, well-hidden, as she listened to the teensiest sound she could hear that might signal her that someone was coming. Preferably Skye.

_ Maybe she was running late? _ She thought. Skye's room was in the middle of the busy third floor, where most guests and nobles stayed, so Bea knew the redhead would have more trouble sneaking past guards undetected.

_ It's Skye _ , another part of her thought, and Bea was unable to stop the smile on her face as she opened the file in front of her.  _ God knows how often Skye would sneak out of her room at night to read or hang out somewhere until she felt tired enough to sleep _ . Bea wouldn't be surprised if Skye knew exactly how to evade anyone in the dark. 

_ She will show up, Bea. _ She told herself. The longer she waited, the more anxious she would get. 

What are they even going to talk about? The two kisses they  _ almost _ had? How they felt about it? Bea had no idea how to begin to understand the feeling she gets whenever Skye was nearby. What would happen if her fondness for Skye meant something deeper, deeper than any friendly feeling there was? 

Bea groaned, shutting the unhelpful file in her hands. She couldn't concentrate on it anyway, not to mention the fact that everything on it was only basic military information and not exactly what she wanted to know.

Looking up, she realized she was too distracted in her thoughts that she didn't hear any footsteps coming her way.

Skye was about to walk by and Bea did the only thing she could. Reaching out and taking a hold of Skye's hand, Bea pulled the redhead behind the statue with such an uncalculated force that Skye only had time to gasp before they crashed against each other.

Bea yelped and shut her eyes, but Skye was quick to react. The girl propped a hand against the pedestal to support herself and avoid colliding against Bea all the way.

_ What the hell, self? _ Her subconscious yelled.

They froze once Skye had steadied them both. Bea felt like her heart stopped beating at all, hyper-aware of the pair of arms wrapped around her and the body that had her pressed up on the marble pedestal behind her. 

Bea slowly opened her eyes and was not surprised to see the pair of blue eyes staring back at her. She gave the girl a sheepish smile. "Hey?"

The corner of Skye's lips quirked into a smirk. "Hey. Just what was that about?"

"I don't really know." She whispered back. Their faces were only a couple of inches apart so they didn't need to talk any louder than whispers. "I'm so clumsy."

"You're lucky it's endearing," the redhead let out a quiet laugh. "And even luckier I didn't punch you because I thought it was someone else."

Her smile brightened. "Well, thank you for not punching me then."

There were a few moments of silence as either of them were unsure on what to say. Bea wouldn't be the one to complain though, she occupied herself with memorising every inch of the beautiful face in front of her. 

No matter how dark her makeup gets, Bea couldn't help but think how angelic Skye's features were, even the light freckles dotting her skin had only added to the girl's charm and Bea found out she wasn't so immuned from. And her lips…

Her eyes flitted to the pair of black-tinted lips and the feeling came back again.  _ God, how I want to _ … her mind spoke.  _ Okay, stop. Control yourself, Beatrice _ .

"Bea?" She saw those lips moved, the way Skye said her name with a mixture of confusion and tenderness wasn't helping the fast beating of her heart at all. "What are we doing here?"

Bea looked up and met the redhead's eyes. "I don't know, Skye. I just wanted to see you."

"And?"

"And…" she tried to remember what she invited Skye up on the sixth floor about and her mind kept coming up empty. It took her a long time before ideas started coming back. "Can we please talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about, Bea?" Skye asked. "I don't want to complicate things for you."

She sighed. "Too late for that."

"Well, any more than it already did. And--" Skye gulped, as if she was almost scared to say the words in her head. "And… I'm afraid that if… if we start overanalyzing  _ this _ , it might ruin everything for us. The last thing I want is to lose the only person who sees me as I am and still want to be around me."

"What? You still think I'd--"

"Wake up one day and realize you don't want to be associated with someone so weird and-- and…outlandish." Skye added the last one quietly, her eyes casted down. 

Bea remembered how the Duke referred to his own daughter that way, she could never forget the look of hurt and shame on Skye's face that night. Bea slid her hand up from its place on Skye's waist, cupping the girl's cheek and brushed her thumb over the scar on the soft skin. "Skye?"

Skye looked up and met her eyes. 

"I may have a tiara on my head most of the time and a waiting throne, we both know I'm just as weird." She smiled, urging the redhead to do the same. "I'd rather be weird with you than pretend to be the perfect girl in front of all these nobles. There's no need to wake up, I've never felt so awake in my life. I don't think there's anything you could do that can make me avoid you."

"I don't know, Bea," Skye shook her head and Bea's heart fluttered when she saw the smile had come back on Skye's lips. "You kind of are the perfect girl."

"Smooth," Bea rolled her eyes playfully. "That was smooth, I give you that."

The girl laughed. "It's true." 

Bea stared in wonder. "My lady, are you aware of how adorable your laugh is?"

Skye dropped her smile at once, her face flushing. "My… what?"

"Your smile, too." Bea added. "It's beautiful."

Shaking her head, it was Skye's turn to roll her eyes. Bea knew the other girl didn't believe her, or any of the words she just said after living with a harsh and abusive family like the Crandalls, constantly being criticized for choices of clothes or the kind of makeup she put on her face. For Bea, there was nothing she'd want to ever change on Skye. Not a single thing she could think of that was a bit repulsive or ugly.

"I'd much rather you believe me but if you don't, that's okay too." Bea said, hoping the girl knew how she meant every word. "I'd say them to you everyday until you start believing me."

Skye sighed heavily. "Why are you like this?"

Bea raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Like so damn…" the redhead's face softened, blue eyes boring into Bea's, so vulnerable yet so deep that she knew it would take a while to fully get to know what was really behind them. 

In them, she could see all of Skye's insecurities, all of her fears, but along every one of those negativities were matched with all the good things in the world that Bea didn't know she had been looking for all this time.

"Skye…" she started but whatever words she was about to say vanished as Skye leaned forward and crashed their lips together.

The little force of their lips pushed Bea backwards a little, her hand clutching on the shoulder of Skye's dress. The feeling of the soft lips on hers seemed to have sent a jolt of electricity all over her body that Bea jerked away as the kiss was just about to register in her muddled mind. Skye stared back at her with fearful eyes, lips parted. 

Bea looked back at her, but she couldn't take her eyes off Skye's lips as what just happened finally registered in her mind.

Skye took her silence differently. When she spoke, her voice came off raspy. "Oh God, I'm so--"

She didn't let Skye finish the apology, not when it wasn't really necessary and not when it was the farthest thing in Bea's head at the moment as she wanted nothing more than to feel those lips back on hers again. She wrapped her arms around Skye's shoulder and pulled the girl back, this time their lips meeting the right way. 

Bea held Skye tight, arms wound tight around the girl like she was afraid Skye would back away. Skye’s lips were soft, softer than Bea had thought was possible, and the waxy cherry taste of her lipstick was altogether easy to ignore when Skye set her hands on her waist that urged Bea to slide her arms and cup Skye's cheek in her hand. It seemed like little waves of energy were pouring from Skye directly to Bea, and she gripped Skye even more, using her strength to press into the kiss a little more forcefully.

When they finally broke apart to catch their breath, Bea chanced a quick look at Skye. The redhead was smiling, a cute blush all over her pale face. Bea leaned forward to press her forehead against Skye’s, wrapping her arms around her waist. Skye looped her arms around Bea’s neck, still grinning but very obviously trying to catch her breath. Bea understood-- she found herself breathless looking at Skye too.

"I think your great grandfather is glaring down on us," Skye remarked as she looked up behind Bea, but she doesn't sound too bothered by it.

Bea giggled, looking up at the tall statue that gladly hadn't moved from its spot. "Great Grandpa wouldn't mind."

"Really?" The redhead laughed.

"I don't think so? He's a cool guy!"

They both shared a laugh over how ridiculous that idea was before a solemn look took over Skye's face. "Bea, did you… did you not regret that? I've never-- never kissed anyone before, definitely not like that."

"Oh, Skye," Bea smiled, cupping the girl's cheek and absentmindedly brushing her thumb over the scar on Skye's cheek. "Would you believe me how amazing you've been more if I kiss you again?"

The pair of blue eyes brightened again as Bea leaned forward and kissed her again, more softer and slower this time, taking their time as it felt like it stopped completely for the two of them. 

The moonlight was casting an almost magical glow through the glass dome overhead. The dark endless sky was filled with stars that seemed to wink at them from afar. Once they parted, they both stared out the balcony and the wide open sky above them.

"Back at home in Lakedon, everything is just white and pine trees all over when you look out the balcony," Skye spoke after a few seconds of silence. "It's hard not to appreciate the change of scenery when it looked like this."

"The snow princess so far from her domain," Bea quipped, making the other girl shake her head.

"I can hardly be considered a princess. Maybe a witch."

She looked at Skye, pretending to think. "We can work with that. You're certainly magical."

"So I'm magical now, huh?"

Bea flushed from the teasing look on Skye's face, apparently, her mind still hadn't recovered from their kisses as it kept playing inside her head.

"Has anyone told you how cute you are when you're flustered?" Skye asked.

She averted her gaze to the sky, hoping she didn't look even more flustered by that. "I'm the future Queen, I don't get flustered."

She felt Skye leaned closer and she almost jumped when the redhead spoke against her ear, her warm breath tickling her neck. "Are you sure about that?"

"Uh…"

"That's what I'm saying." 

Bea felt Skye's smile as the girl kissed her cheek. Shaking her head, Bea merely smiled and accepted her fate. "You're impossible."

"Come on," Skye beckoned her over to the balcony.

The redhead took off her black coat and spread it over the floor, sitting on top of it and patted the space next to her for Bea to sit on. Bea obliged, taking her spot next to Skye but instead, she laid down all the way.

"What are you doing?" Skye laughed.

"The sky looks beautiful," Bea smiled up at Skye, who looked down on her, very amused. "So why not look at stars?" 

"You sure you're talking about  _ that _ sky?" Skye pointed up above.

"Hmm… maybe." She beamed. "Come on, I come here sometimes to stare up the evening sky."

Skye laid down anyway after rolling her eyes and pretending she doesn't want to. Bea held up her hand and Skye immediately laced their fingers together, lying side by side as they looked up the dark star-studded sky.

At that moment, everything felt so at peace and so… right. As Bea thought about it, she couldn't help but notice how Skye seemed to be that one constant thing associated with those feelings.The things that were regularly driving her to the edge of her sanity felt so distant-- the crown, the responsibilities, the Selection-- she didn't have to worry about them when she was with Skye, and she liked it. She liked it a lot. Unfortunately, the worries still lurked in the corners of her mind.  _ What's going to happen now? _ Bea knew they would have to keep it with them. As the Crown Princess, she wouldn't be held responsible if the court finds out about her and Skye. The last thing she wanted was to put the girl in a situation and get punished in something that she was as much involved with.  _ Will I be able to keep it a secret? Walk around everyday, seeing Skye all the time and not want to kiss her? _ She couldn't promise Skye anything, not when she herself doesn't have a say on how her life will go. Her own fate wasn't under her control, it would always be tied to the country and her people. 

Bea felt a gentle squeeze on her hand and she turned her head to Skye, who had been watching her.

"You're overthinking again." Skye noted, utter concern behind her blue eyes.

"It's hard not to," Bea admitted regretfully. "How can you not? I don't know what will happen to us now, we--"

She was cut off when Skye pressed her hand against her lips, kissing it softly. "You think I don't worry about that too?"

"You don't seem to want to talk about it."

"I don't want to dwell on it, Bea, it's different." 

Bea frowned. "How is that any different?"

"I'd rather spend those times focusing on the good parts of… us," Skye paused, looking thoughtful. "… Than dwell with things that haven't come yet. If you know what I mean. Do you want me to be honest?"

"Always." Bea nodded.

"I actually felt better now that we kind of knew where we stand." The redhead smiled a little. "Like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I've been so confused for a long time. I'd see you and I don't know… I feel I don't have to hold my feelings back, especially when it's just the two of us."

Her heart seemed to have melted as she listened to Skye speak, her eyes absentmindedly tracing some patterns on the sky. Suddenly, something clicked in her mind and Bea sat up to turn to Skye. "Hold back? Is that why you avoided me when you saw Rory and I…"

Skye closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Yes. I… I didn't know how to feel when I saw you with him like that. To see you with all them, as they take you to all these dates, and take you places…"

"That thing with Rory was complicated. In fact, everything is complicated in my life right now."

"I know. I'm not asking for anything, Bea," Skye said softly. "Soon, you will be Queen. Then it was only a matter of time before you'll have to choose one of them and you will be officially engaged."

"Skye…" Bea sat up and tried to stop her but Skye held up her hand.

"Listen. For now, you're free. I'd be content to spending whatever time was left of that freedom, or however long, with you… if you let me."

Her heart softened at how solemn Skye said the last words, and Bea couldn't help but stare down at her in awe. Skye's red waves were fanned out on the floor and Bea reached over to brush a stray piece of hair on Skye's forehead, biting her lip. "Alright. I'll try not to overthink any of this. No more worrying when I'm with you."

"Does that mean you're letting me?"

As an answer, Bea leaned down and pressed her lips against Skye's. Her golden locks fell down like curtains around them and she felt the smile on the girl's lips as Bea deepened the kiss.

***

  
  
  
  


Bea stared down blankly at the tiny soldier figurines spread out all over the miniature landscape on the table. 

Her attention would split between them and to Danielle's constant tapping on the small corner table next to her armchair with her long red fingernails. Her cousin sat on the throne-like chair with her leg crossed over the other, one hand on a glass of cocktail and the other was tapping restlessly on the table. She sat all the way across the room as if the very presence of Bea in the same room as her would cause something catastrophic, which she didn't mind one bit.

"Would you please stop that?" Bea mumbled, gritting her teeth.

Danielle looked up at her innocent. "Stop what?"

"That-- That tapping!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Danielle shot her a fake apologetic smile. "Was it so annoying for Her Royal Pain-in-the-Ass?"

Bea shut her eyes, taking a deep calming breath as she planted her hand on the edge of the table, leaning on them. 

It had been like this for the past thirty minutes they were in the state room, the same room the king, the council and the high-ranking military officers would sometimes lock themselves in around the sand table and talk about war strategies. But that morning, it was just her, Ian and their very bored cousin Danielle. 

Bea doesn't even know what Danielle was doing there with them, but the girl knew her presence would annoy Bea for the entire day and was probably the reason she stayed there with them.  _ Why can't she just go somewhere? Gossip with the other court ladies, or even bother Rory for the meantime? _

Despite her polite request, Danielle smirked and kept tapping. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Bea rolled her eyes and turned to her brother, who stood at the other end of the table with his arms crossed over his chest and watching them bicker back and forth. "Why did you even invite her here?"

Ian shrugged. "I, uh, thought we should all hangout?"

Danielle arched her eyebrow, looking around the empty room and Bea's glare towards her. "Is this hanging out, Ian?"

"Well," Ian's eyes fleeted nervously between them. "I mean, I know you two don't get along… thought we should at least fix that."

"I don't think it would work if she keeps on being so insufferable." Bea remarked in disdain.

Their cousin tilted her head towards Bea. "Or perhaps because someone's being salty about something."

She looked over, baffled. "What am I even supposed to be salty about?" 

"Because Rory likes spending more time with me than you," Danielle challenged.

"Is it spending time if you cling to his side all the time?" Bea countered. "You're going to get him in trouble, it's only a matter of time."

"Okay, stop," Ian held up his hand, his head moving from one girl to another. "I didn't invite both of you here just so I can watch you roast each other." 

Bea nodded. "Then maybe you shouldn't have invited her?"

"Like this was any fun," Danielle bristled, picking up her glass and strutting out of the door, her dress swishing behind her.

Once the doors shut again, Bea let out a deep sigh. "Well, that was great."

"Sorry," Ian apologized, a lopsided smile on his face that he does when he's guilty. A mannerism he had in common with Leon. "That was my bad."

She waved her hand. "Nah, it's fine. You're sweet, I appreciate the thought. But Danielle and I? I don't think there will come a day where we see each other eye-to-eye. Maybe when the hell freezes over and the rebels are finally stopped."

"Huh. That bad?" 

"Anyway, she left now, so maybe we should start our discussion about these," Bea gestured at the tiny red figurines on the sand table. "Are these the current battlements in New Asia?"

She pointed to a bunch of red figurines all gathered in a wide space that represents their military based in New Asia, specifically a place that used to be the country of Myanmar which became almost a wasteland after it was hit hard during the last World War and the population dwindled until it became the standpoint between Solarian and New Asian soldiers. 

There were the old buildings from the old cities, but they look more like a forgotten cement jungle now and a bunch of rubbles that worked for the strategies or traps. Judging from the tiny flags dotted around the landscape though, Solari seemed to have conquered a majority of the land.

"I…" Bea looked down on the sand table, confused. "This seems to be more like conquering than actual war, Ian."

"It is war when they steal what's ours." Ian walked over to the huge world map on the wall. "Look at Hawaii, and Guam."

She followed his pointing finger and located the small islands in the Pacific. There were the New Asian Empire flag pinned on it. 

"And Australia, too." Ian added, pointing next to where the larger island was located. 

After the world war, Australia basically merged with Solari soon after the new leadership was established. Australia willingly joined forces with them until Solari declared them both as one. Unfortunately, for the past few decades, foreign troops and shipments were found along the Australian territories and New Asian started taking interest in it.

Still, Bea felt like there had to be something more with this war. Young boys kept on being drafted every year and hundreds of them never made it home. 

She sighed. "I admit, I don't see the point of this war. Imagine everything an alliance with New Asia could offer."

"Now you're suggesting we fraternize with our enemy?" Ian raised his eyebrow.

"Are they our enemies?" Bea asked. "The war had been going on for long centuries and now we don't even know what we truly fight about. We're just going back and forth against each other. The result? Thousands of families losing their sons, fathers, brothers, and husbands."

"That's the cost of war, Bea."

"I don't want the lives of my people to be the cost of anything, not even mine." She furrowed her eyebrows, pacing around the table slowly. "Had the former Kings ever tried reaching out? Talk it out with the Emperor of New Asia over a cup of tea? I know that sounds ridiculous but tea talks were proven effective."

Ian rolled his eyes, making his way over Danielle's old chair and plopping down. "Kings don't sit around and have tea with their enemies. They gather armies and fight. The emperor certainly conquers first, no questions asked. It's always been like that for them since the old times."

"I'm not saying we sit around and do nothing if we're being aggravated, but there has to ways to end this thing with less casualties." Bea picked up the figurines one by one, putting them to the side. "Maybe that way, these men can go home to their families."

"You can't suggest that in front of the council, Bea." Ian reminded her. "Grandpa will think you weren't taking this issue seriously."

"I do. I take this war seriously. I just think we can find some alternatives, or maybe we can come to terms with the emperor, withdraw both sides and offer each other something in order of peace."

"Could be." Ian said half-heartedly.

"I wanted to focus on the other problem first," Bea spoke after a few moments of silence as they stared down on the sand table. 

"The rebels."

"Yes. I have a feeling they're getting bold, Ian," Bea told him. "Their attacks were becoming more and more close to where they hit us the most."

"They couldn't take down the palace so instead they hit the people." Her brother realized. "Do you think it has something to do with your ascension?"

"I can't be sure but that might be one reason. We can't figure out what to do with the war in New Asia if we couldn't solve the rebel problems first. Or else it would be us trying to fight an empire while being stabbed from the inside."

"Well, we'll have to come up with something for that. Something the former kings haven't tried." He looked at her closely and Ian raised his eyebrows. "You have a plan."

Bea doesn't know if she could even consider it a plan. There were so many missing pieces she was yet to find out: The man who executed their parents and Leon, the person who attacked her and possibly linked to the lost clan of Northerners, Wes Porter's involvement with it… "I don't know, Ian."

"This better not be dangerous."

"You said it yourself, every war has its cost and I know there were also the risks."

Ian gaped."Not when it's your life!" 

"Why not, Ian?" Bea asked, she genuinely wanted to know. "Because I will be Queen? I'm the ruler?"

"Yes," he agreed like it was obvious. "Who else are we all going to turn to if the leader is dead?"

"I don't want my people to keep risking their lives for me. I want to know if there is something I can do for them for once. I'm not sure if I can stomach to hear any more stories like Julian's death, or those men who will never be coming home because of their service to the crown."

"They knew the risks and they took it."

"I know the risk, and I'm doing the same."

"Bea…" Ian shot her a grave look.

"Rulers come and go, that's how the game works." Bea shrugged. "You know how quickly Dad was taken out in the blink of an--"

"Don't."

"Sorry," She shook her head. "It's just… I don't have a death wish. I don't want to die, not when I haven't fulfilled the things I wanted for the country. I just wanted to be the ruler our people deserve for once." Bea looked over to huge portraits of men on the far wall above the stone fireplace in their golden frames.

At the very top was the portrait of Frederick Solari, an army general during the World War that worked alongside the last president of America. After a tragic plane explosion that killed the president, Frederick took charge of the war when the country was left with nothing to turn to and was proven capable of raising the country's chances of survival and succeeded. The old America was practically destroyed to the point that after Frederick saved the country, the people worshipped him as he altered everything from changing its name after him and declaring himself as King.

The joy was short-lived as King Frederick implemented the caste system, gathering the wealthy on the upper castes and the rest depending their castes on their cost of living. The people weren't pleased, but there was nothing they could do about it and the North became more vocal about their disagreement on his way of ruling.

The crown was passed down to his eldest son Derrick and every first born son after him. Their subjects became increasingly unhappy with their lives as decades passed and the birth of revolution started when a documented proof of Frederick's scheme that led to the death of the last American president came to light, disgruntling the then-King Alister's rule. King Alister was Frederick's great-grandson, receiving a massive hate from his people for something the first King had done.

Before King Alister died, he made the very same decision that changed the line of succession to the throne. He decided never to bear a son and instead appointed his eldest nephew, Maximo Everhart, as his heir, beginning the new royal line.

Bea looked over to the latest addition to the line of portraits on the wall, King Alan's. The portrait was taken during the anniversary of his coronation, a few years before they died. He looked so young, so handsome and proud, but the one look she loved about the portrait was his kind smile. In fact, King Alan was the only one who had a hint of a smile on his face.

Also, she couldn't help but wish there was at least one woman among them, someone she could set as an example for herself. Of course, Bea admired and looked up to their mother endlessly. Queen Faith was a great Queen all by herself, but she just never had the same responsibilities as King Alan, just like all the other queens before her whose role was to support their husband and handle the softer social side of court.

Just as Brian said before, this much power was never given to a woman before, much less a girl. In Bea's case, it was never willingly. If King Alan hadn't somehow anticipated their deaths and altered the law of succession, their grandfather would be molding Ian into being the perfect king the old man had wanted him to be at the moment.

Bea looked over to his brother, who was examining the landscape on the sand table. "What is it, Ian?"

"I don't know, sis…" he said, rubbing his chin. "When I look at the entry points surrounding the old Myanmar, I think you might be right. No matter how many battalions and troops our soldiers would defeat, they were still surrounded by New Asian lands, the enemy soldiers would just keep coming back."

"A never ending war." Bea agreed.

"That sounds exhausting, for our men and our resources."

She remembered the records she read when looking for Julian's files. "There were so many of our men who'd been there for so several years, missing their families and almost forgotten what it's like to not live in a warzone anymore."

Ian had a thoughtful look on his face. 

"If you were King, Ian," Bea asked slowly. "What would you do?"

Ian chuckled. "Is this a trick question?"

"What? No, of course, not. Just wondering, that's all."

"You know I'm thinking of military strategies here, right?" Ian pointed to the certain spots on the sand table. "Focus on the weaker places and to avoid getting caught off guard, additional incentives for the soldiers and… I think it would do wonders if we give them vacation."

"Vacation?" Bea raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, let them have some vacation leave so they could come home and see their families. It would definitely boost their morale."

"And hope." She added.

"I like the sound of that." Ian grinned.

Bea watched her brother, mirroring his smile. "You'd make a great king, Ian."

The smile instantly dropped from his face and he looked up at her, shaking his head. "Stop saying that. It's… it's making me nervous."

"Why?"

"I remember how Leon used to keep telling you the same thing, like he knew something would happen."

"Oh," Bea let out a sharp breath. As Ian said that, moments flashes in her head. Of Leon telling her how she would make a great Queen one day. As if he knew somehow that he would never make it that long. "That's kind of freaky."

"You tell me." Ian's smile turned rueful.

She planted her hands on the table and stared down on the landscape as well.

"I don't want the throne, Bea. Not when it's clearly meant for you." Ian walked over and stood next to her, he leaned back against the table. "Loyal twin brother is a great title, if I'm being honest."

Her smile widened. "Thanks."

"Although I can't promise I'll make it easy for you to get a proper picture for your portrait to put there." He nodded to the wall. "I'll take Grace with me and we'll make funny faces until you can't hold a straight face anymore."

"I don't think I expect anything less from the two of you."

"We've been here a while now, haven't we?" Ian checked his watch. "I might not be able to have lunch with you. I'll grab an early meal."

"Some important plans you're looking forward to?" Bea raised a questioning brow. "Perhaps… taking one of the ladies on a date?"

"Pfft." He laughed. "Not this guy. Some of the cadets challenged each other in a game of volleyball this afternoon. I invited Erin as well, she told me she used to play during college so I thought she'd want to join."

"You two have been hanging out a lot lately." She teased.

"She's a really cool girl." Ian nodded, grinning. Either he didn't get her insinuation or he just didn't hear. "It's very refreshing to meet a girl who doesn't run away from a ball when you throw it to her."

"What, the screaming ladies from court weren't charming enough?" 

"Well, they're all lovely, but it's really cool of Erin to be so active, you know. She knows her sports, and I'm pretty sure she already beat your suitors on a lot of games too."

"Not to mention beautiful." Bea pointed out.

Ian tilted his head, as if thinking. "She is beautiful, isn't she?"

Bea tried to hide her smile at that.  _ Someone's crushing _ , she thought. She wouldn't be one to stand against that idea of her brother liking Erin. He deserves someone who shares the same interest as he did, even if Bea preferred it if Ian would take it in his own pace.

"Well, I have to go," Ian patted her shoulder. "Any plans for today?"

"A date with Clint."

"Huh. Good luck with that."

"You too." Bea laughed.

"Feel free to watch and support your loving twin brother if you feel like it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He made his way to the doors but stopped like he forgot something. "Miss Maria mentioned a pair of designers coming over to help for the Independence Day Celebration and your Coronation."

Bea wrinkled her nose. "I didn't need that many designers, Grace was already a one-woman army by herself."

"That's what I said, but they're needed, Bea."

"Okay, I'll meet them once they arrive."

"Good, see you later then." Ian opened one of the doors and stepped out, keeping his hand on the door handle to close it but smiled when he saw someone. "Lady Skye! What brought you here?"

Bea perked up from her spot, trying to listen but didn't hear any response, so she watched her brother winked charmingly before leaving the door open for the redhead.

Turning around and leaning back against the edge of the table, Bea smiled wider when Skye appeared from the doorway. 

The girl closed the doors slowly and walked towards her. "So this is where the war starts."

"Yeah," Bea extended a hand which Skye immediately took, pulling the girl closer to her. "This is where men stand around and talk about war with serious faces."

Skye smirked. "That sounds about right."

"I missed you." She mumbled before pulling Skye even closer and leaned for a kiss.

Smiling, Skye kissed her back, hand setting on her waist. Skye spoke once they parted. "It's only been what, nine hours?"

"That's a lot of hours for me." Bea pouted.

The look on Skye's face softened. "Did you get enough sleep?"

"Not really, I couldn't sleep well and I blame you for that."

"Oh, now it's my fault we stayed up till 3am staring at the night sky?" Skye challenged. "You were all snuggled up on me and refused to get up."

"In my defense, I like snuggling you."

The redhead rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her annoyance. "You're still having lunch with me?"

"Of course," Bea reached up and cupped Skye's cheek, brushing her thumb over the scar distractedly. "I'm actually looking forward to it."

"I like when you do that." Skye said quietly.

"Do what?"

"When you brush your finger over my scar." A small smile played on Skye's lips, looking bashful as she admitted that. "That… that you're the only one who looks at it and not think it's weird or anything."

"'Cause it's not." Bea said, surprised that Skye would even suggest she'd think it was anything bad. "I adore it."

It was like Bea felt Skye's cheek warm up at that, a slight blush suddenly lighting up on her pale cheeks. 

"Okay, that's all too cheesy enough for me," Skye bowed her head to hide her blush and leaned against Bea, who wrapped her arms around the girl's waist as they embraced each other next to the sand table. 

"I already informed Grace that you'll be joining us for lunch." Bea said close to Skye's ears after about a minute of silence. 

"Is she going to eat with us?" Skye asked, voiced muffled by her shoulder.

"I'm not sure, would you mind if she does?" 

She pulled Skye back to see the girl's reaction. Neither of them knew what their relationship was now after their talk the night before.  _ Well… it was more than talking. They may have kissed a few more times than they should _ … but they never talked about what their relationship would be like from this point on. Nothing changed in Bea's situation at all. She still had to go to dates with the suitors and get to know them. She still has to choose one of them someday. Yet, Bea knew to herself that she'd be willing to go to great lengths to show Skye how much she cares about her and how much spending time with the redhead really meant for her. 

"I already thought she'd be joining us anyway," Skye replied, shrugging. "I know you two always do have lunch together when you're not eating with everyone, and I hope she doesn't mind that I'll be with you."

"Nonsense, she'd be really happy that you'll be with us." 

"Good, I don't want to interrupt your tradition."

"You'll never," Bea took Skye's hand. "Come on, she might be waiting for us now."

Skye let her lead the way, their fingers laced together as they walked. They came across a few nobles but none of them even blinked an eye to see her holding hands with Skye. 

Skye looked over at her as they walked. "Do you… um, have a date coming up?"

"Yeah," Bea frowned, worried what she'd think. "I have one with Clint after lunch."

"Oh," Skye nodded. Bea wondered if she imagined it but the look on Skye's face was relief. "Okay, then."

"You don't seem too bothered by that." She noted.

"Have you met Clint?" The redhead asked rhetorically and they both laugh.

She had a point. Ever since the Selection started, Clint showed more interest in Rory more than he ever did for Bea. It was like the guy was starstruck by the other guy and he spent most of his time with Lady Natalie, a known admirer of Rory as well.

Even though Bea would occasionally ask him on dates, it was nothing more than a chore that they were both obligated to do. She decided to keep him around for the simple fact that he was funny and it was nice that he bonded with one of the ladies at court, despite not having the same drive and competitiveness as the other suitors.

When she and Skye made it to the balcony where Bea usually eats lunch, Grace was already setting up the table for them with Vizmund waiting next to her, tail wagging patiently. The girl looked up from her work and beamed at the sight of them. "Hey, you were taking too long I thought I had to pick you up."

"Sorry, Ian and I just got caught up in our conversations about war."

"I think they're planning some sort of world domination in there," Skye whispered conspiratorially to the other girl, making Grace gasp in feigned shock.

"And no one invited me?"

Bea laughed along with them. "You were the ringleader, Grace."

Skye squeezed her hand before letting go, something that didn't escape Grace's eyes, meeting the white dog who bounded over to them as soon as they got closer.

"I take it Lady Skye will be joining you for lunch?" Grace asked.

"She's joining  _ us _ for lunch." Bea corrected.

The girl shot the redhead a fleeting uncertain look. "I, uh, I'm not sure that's proper."

"Aw, come on, Grace," Bea sighed, reaching out for Grace's hand. "It's just us."

"Yeah, Grace," Skye stood up. "I'd rather have lunch with you two than have the cold hard silence at my family's table down in the dining hall."

Grace sighed heavily before smiling. "Fine. If you're sure about that."

"We're very sure." Bea assured her. She rounded the outdoor table and took a seat, beckoning Skye on the chair next to her. 

"So," Grace started once they were all settled. "What have you two been up to lately?"

Bea looked over at Skye, who met her eyes before pretending to be occupied with her food, then to Grace's questioning look. "Just the usual palace life, why?"

"I don't know…" Grace said. "You seemed to be acting weird."

"I'm always weird, Grace." Skye offered her a mysterious smile. "You'd have to be more specific."

The other girl narrowed her eyes. "Hmm. I suppose I'll have to find out for myself whatever you two had under your sleeves."

Bea laughed, but it came out nervously. "What have  _ you _ been up to lately?"

Grace stopped at that, mid-chew. "Uh, maid stuff?"

"Right." Skye snickered.

"Now you're ganging up on me," Grace rolled her eyes playfully, causing them to laugh.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Skye finished her meal first, leaning back on her chair and watched Bea eating. "Any news on the Wes Porter angle?"

"Yeah, what happened to that?" Grace asked too.

"Nothing yet," Bea took a sip on her glass of water. "I'm stuck, I don't know where else to go."

"You mentioned you already met him in his cell, have you tried talking to him?" The redhead suggested.

"No, I'm not even sure if he'd be helpful. I don't think I could trust a word he'd say." 

"You don't have to," Grace agreed. "But like Frank said, Porter was there when it happened. He might give you an insight about what really did happen."

"Would Frank let me?" Bea pointed out.

Skye turned her chair a little to the side to face her. "I don't think he could stop you if he wanted to."

She started running the possibility inside her head, nodding slowly. "You might be right."

"I'd go with you, if you want." Grace offered. "He won't be able to step any closer than five feet."

"His files said he was six-foot-one, Grace." Skye quipped, obviously teasing the other girl.

Grace raised a challenging brow. "Your point? You're like just an inch taller than me, lady."

Bea laughed. "Okay, okay. We'll figure out how we can get to him."

The three of them chatted a little more after they finished their meals, figuring out how Bea could convince Frank to take her to Wes. Bea trusted Frank, but she knew it would take a lot of convincing to get the general into letting her down the cells, preferably in secret. 

After about an hour, Grace excused herself to get back on her duties and take their dishes downstairs. Bea and Skye were left alone once more, turning to each other almost instantly. 

"It's almost time for me to meet Clint." Bea sighed. 

Skye reached out for her hands and held them. "It's fine, Bea. Do what you have to."

"Sure it's fine?" 

"Of course. I'll just be around here." Skye smiled. "Vizmund will keep me company."

"Okay, I'll have to go," Bea stood, looking around first to make sure no one was looking before leaning down and pressing her lips on Skye's. "I'll see you around."

"You know where to find me." Skye pulled her down one last time for a quick peck before letting her go with a smile. 

***

Bea found Clint in the Great Hall chatting excitedly with Lady Natalie. Nothing unusual there.

The two seemed to be surprised when she came over and Clint stood so suddenly he almost fell off the couch again. 

"Your Highness!" He stumbled over his own words. "You're here!"

"Yes," Bea greeted them with a bemused smile. "How are you two?"

Natalie curtsied a little, beaming. "You're Highness, Clint and I were just talking about going to the pool! It's a Code Red."

"A Code Hot Red." Clint agreed, grinning.

"A code… hot… red?" Bea looked from Natalie to Clint, unsure if she heard it right. The excited smiles on their face were freaking her out a bit.

"Yup," Natalie replied, leaning closer as if to whisper a very intriguing secret. "Rory mentioned he'd be out on the pool swimming this afternoon so we thought we'd be there."

"Oh," Bea turned to Clint. "You've made plans. What about the date?"

Clint paused for a moment, probably trying to remember before his face turned pale. "Oh my god, we have a date!"

"Aw, no…" Natalie's eyes widened. "I thought you said you don't have anything important to do today!"

"That's because I forgot." The guy glanced nervously at Bea. 

_ Okay… _ Bea blinked a few times, not really sure what was happening. Clint gave her a pleading look. "Would you like to… cancel, for now?" She asked.

The question appeared to have brightened him up. "You wouldn't mind?"

_ Wow… they really wanted to see Rory without a shirt on _ . Bea thought. She knew that was a view every person in their right mind would want to see, but she still couldn't believe Clint was really going to blow off their date for Rory. Not that she was feeling any disappointment at all, that just meant she could go back and spend the rest of her time with Skye, right?  _ Skye!  _

"YES." Bea bit her lip to conceal her smile at that prospect. Clint and Natalie raised their eyebrows at her very enthusiastic change in demeanor. She tried to compose a more civilized response. "I mean, I don't mind. You guys go ahead."

"Thank you!" Natalie practically bounced on her shoes. "Clint, let's go!"

Waving back, Clint was dragged away. She waved after them. "Tell Rory I said hi!"

The Great Hall became quieter once the two left. Bea watched them disappear around the corner before her mind started running up plans inside her head and the first thing she thought about was food.

"Yes, food," she agreed, making her way to the kitchen hoping Grace would be there. 

Grace wasn't there. Bea thought the girl might be in the palace tailoring helping on her dresses. It was okay, though. She asked one of the servants she found to prepare her a small basket of food. 

A few minutes later, basket in hand, Bea made her way up to the courtyard. She had a picnic blanket slung over her shoulder and she nudged the door open with her foot.

She was greeted in the courtyard with an excited bark, and a white floof running towards her. She leaned down to pet Vizmund with her free hand, smiling at the dog.

“Bea!” Skye said. “What happened with your date?”

“Apparently there was a Code Hot Red,” Bea giggled. “Don’t ask. I’m starting to think Clint’s here for Rory more than for me.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Skye muttered, then her eyes flicked to the basket in Bea’s hands. “What’s that stuff for?”

“You. We’re going on a picnic,” Bea announced. “I remembered how you mentioned that you couldn’t take me on a date. It’s not exactly the same, but I wanted to spend some more time with you. Down by the lake.”

“The lake...? But Bea, anyone could see us in front of the palace like that.”

Bea shook her head. “Not that man-made lake. There’s another one, we call it Lake Berry, hidden in the forest area beyond the gardens. Hardly anyone ever goes there, it could be just for us.”

Skye reached her hand out to take Bea’s. “That sounds really nice,” she said. “But I still owe you a date since technically you’re asking me on this one. And anyways, aren’t you forbidden from going there?”

Bea shrugged. “It doesn’t matter when it’s for you. Come on, let’s go! We’ll need to ride bikes to get there.”

Skye froze in the middle of getting up. 

“...what?" Bea asked, noticing her hesitation.

“Bikes?” Skye repeated.

“Yes, bicycles,” Bea said. “Wait, do you not…?”

Skye shook her head. “I’ve never ridden one before. I– nobody ever taught me.”

Bea’s eyes widened. “What? None of your tutors did?”

“Nope.”

Against her better judgement, Bea cracked a smile.

“What?” Skye asked. “It’s not something they teach to a proper lady. I’m more surprised that you know how.”

“My mom taught me,” Bea said. “She was a Five, so that’s how she got around before she became a queen.”

“Just thinking about my mom trying to teach me to ride a bike… she could never. It kind of makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time.”

“No crying on our date!” Bea protested. “Come on, I’ll teach you.”

A few minutes later, the two had retrieved the bicycles propped up against the wall of the stables. A blue mountain bike and a red one with thicker tires that had a basket on the front.

“Okay,” Bea said, securing the picnic basket on the back of the blue bike. “You can take mine, it’s easier to ride for beginners. Now, I want you to watch what I do first, okay? And then you can try.”

Skye looked a little scared, holding onto the red bike’s handles gingerly, as if she was afraid she would break them. Vizmund pushed his nose into the redhead’s hand, trying to cheer her up. Both of the girls laughed at this.

“You know, when Vizmund was just a puppy, he used to ride in the basket. Now he’s too big to fit, so he runs beside me.”

Skye eyed the tiny basket and giggled again, clearly trying to picture the large dog being small enough to fit in there.

Bea wanted to laugh too. “Skye, you’re really weird. You know like six languages, you can ride horses and probably shoot arrows and I know you’re good at self-defense. But you don’t know how to ride bicycles.”

Skye rolled her eyes playfully. “But now you’re gonna teach me,” she said. “Anyways, it’s hard to ride a bike on thick snow, which covers the ground half the year in Lakedon. We don’t have sunshine all the time like you guys do here.”

_ You’re a ray of pure bright light, _ Bea thought, but she didn’t say anything. She let go of the blue bike and coaxed Skye to get on the red one, holding the handles steady for the girl. The bike tilted to the side Skye immediately held on to Bea's shoulder, making her giggle. "It's okay, I'm here! You're not gonna fall! And remember the brakes."

"How can you ride these things?" Skye set a firm foot on the ground and the other on a raised pedal. 

"Look! You're doing great, Skye," Bea encouraged her. "Now, keep the handles steady…" she set her hands on top of Skye's, who had a white-knuckle grip on the handle. "The more it wobbles, the slower the bike gets, and the more chances the bike will fall over."

The redhead put on a serious face, eyes focused on her instructions and it brought a bigger smile on Bea's face. "Okay, steady," Skye nodded. "Easier said than done but I'll try it."

"That's the spirit. Now, you step on one pedal over the other…"

Skye stepped on the pedal a little too hard and the bike lurched forward. She would have fell if Bea hadn't been holding on to the handle as she did. 

"Slowly," Bea reminded, pecking a chaste kiss on the girl's cheek when she knew no one was looking. "I know you'll figure it out."

The determined look was back on Skye's face and this time, Bea let go of her. Skye nodded and stepped on the pedal, the wheels turning and the bicycle started moving, the redhead setting her other foot on the pedal.

"Yes!" Bea cheered, pumping both hands up in the air. "Keep going!"

Skye made it a few meters away as she and Vizmund cheered for her before the girl pressed on the brakes a little too firmly and the bicycle skidded to a stop.

Bea ran after her, beaming. Skye planted both feet on the ground and waited for Bea to reach her. "I did it."

"You did it!" She wrapped her arms around Skye's shoulder and kissed her cheek. "How was it?"

"Surprisingly exciting," Skye replied. "I think I get it now."

"I told you it was easy."

"It wasn't easy, but I do think I get it now."

"Alright," Bea rolled her eyes playfully. "Do you think you can do a little farther? We'll go slow."

Skye tried it again, this time going in circles. The wheels wavered slightly when Skye hesitates but Bea was pleased to see the redhead's thrilled smile as she pedaled faster and faster. 

To her surprise, Skye turned the bicycle around and was already heading to the forest, making her gasp. "Hey, wait for me!"

"Catch up!" Skye called back, then whistled for Vizmund, who wasn't far behind.

Bea got onto the blue bicycle as fast as her skirt could let her and drove after Skye. Thankfully, it wasn't too high even if Ian mentioned it being too low for him. She managed to catch up, finding Skye already playing with Vizmund as he chased after her bicycle.

"Careful!" Bea called. "There were rocks and uneven ground, Skye!"

"I know!" The redhead circled back and drove next to her. 

Bea turned to her with a smile. "Having fun, are we?"

"Eh, maybe a little?" Skye replied cheekily.

"Could have fooled me." She rolled her eyes and reached a hand for Skye. The girl's blue eyes widened when she realized Bea was asking her to drive the bike with one hand. 

"We're not gonna fall, trust me," Bea assured the redhead as she kept her hand in the air between them, waiting.

Eventually, Skye let out a deep breath and slowly let go of the handle with her one hand, eyes trained to the ground before taking Bea's hand with her. They drove their bicycles down the worn path across the forest together, hand in hand. Vizmund ran with them, making sure not to block their paths or get in the way, barking occasionally when he'd see a squirrel or a bird whizzing by.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Bea asked, beaming over at the redhead.

"It is!" Skye returned the smile before looking up and taking a deep cleansing breath this time.

_ You are amazing _ , Bea added inside her head, watching the other girl a bit longer than she should before turning ahead. The trees were so tall and the afternoon sun peeked through the canopy of leaves far above, feeling the warm breeze brushed through their cheeks and the sense of peace and quiet washed over them.

They eventually had to let go when they reached the bend and the ground became more uneven that they had to get off their bicycles as they neared the spot. As much as Skye enjoyed it, Bea saw how relieved the girl was when she suggested they could walk the rest of the way. Skye reached for her hand as they walked next to each other, holding their bicycles on their sides. Vizmund strutted ahead, smelling the plants and bushes they passed, looking completely at ease which told Bea they were safe. She broke another one of her grandfather's rules to never go to the lake unsupervised, or not at all if she could help it. It wasn't safe and Bea knew that, the reason why she decided to bring the dog with them.

"Are these berries?" Skye asked, looking around them.

Bea noticed the scenery had changed a little and they were now surrounded by red dotted shrubs that were spread out all over the forest in full colors. Her smile widened. All the memories she had in the place with their mother flashed back in her head. "They are, and they're edible too."

She nodded to Vizmund, who found a bunch of red rounded berries and bit off from them, smearing his face with red juices.

"It's like a whole other world out here," Skye remarked, breathing in. 

"Our Mom showed us this place when we were just kids. She used to take lots of walks, even going as far as here when she really needed an escape from all the craziness in the palace." Bea said as they walked. 

"I would, too," Skye agreed, admiring the place. "So different from the snowy mountain forests around our estate. Here, I could actually walk around and enjoy the sight without freezing myself to death."

Bea caught a glimpse of glittering water ahead and squeezed Skye's hand, leading her through an opening among the bushes and they stumbled on a clearing, which opened to a small lake with a small wooden dock running on the middle where Bea remembered they attached a canoe once. 

Skye slowed down, taking in scenery. "Wow."

"I know," Bea smiled at the girl, a warm sense of happiness spreading across her chest at the utter amazement on Skye's face.

They set their bicycles on their stands and Bea unlatched the picnic basket from hers, the blanket folded neatly on top of it as she followed Skye to the lake and down the docks.

Bea laid out the blanket in the middle of the docks so that they would be facing the water and started taking out the snacks and food the servant had packed for her. Once she was done, Bea got up and stood next to Skye. 

"Call me selfish but I'm actually glad not a lot of people knew about this place," Skye said. "Sometimes, some things were better left alone and let it bloom on its own, you know?"

"That's beautiful," Bea whispered, taking Skye's hand and pulling her over to the picnic blanket. She shot the girl a smirk. "How's the date going so far?"

"Well…" Skye pretended to think hard. "You certainly have the home court advantage."

"Aw, come on," Bea groaned, sitting down on the blanket and pulling Skye with her, who knelt down in front of her. "You like it."

Skye looked her in the eyes, a crooked smile on her dark lips before leaning forward and pressing them on Bea's. All thoughts vanished from Bea's mind the moment their lips touched and she responded with the same fervor as her hand moved to cup Skye's cheek.

"Thank you for bringing me out here," Skye whispered against her lips when they parted. "You're right, I love it."

There was a certain light in those pair of blue eyes as she said those words that Bea couldn't decipher. Her heart warmed up by it, filling her soul with a joy she never knew if she'd ever felt before.

"Anything to make you smile," Bea replied.

The redhead rolled her eyes, trying to hide her smile, pulling away to sit on the blanket across from her. "Is this how a date with the Crown Princess feels like for the suitors? Charming gestures and sweet words?"

"Most of my dates were planned by Miss Maria," she said, pulling out sandwiches from the basket. "And they'll be spent with me questioning them about their lives, you know?"

Skye listened, scratching the back of Vizmund's ear who went to join them and laid his head on Skye's lap. 

"You're the only one I've brought out here," Bea added. "This place holds something special for me and I don't know if I want to share it with any of them."

"I wouldn't mind if you question me too," Skye said after a little pause and Bea noticed the contemplating look on her face.

"Is it weird if I say that I feel like I know so much about you, and at the same time, you keep surprising me with something new everyday?" 

"No," the redhead shook her head, laughing quietly. "I feel the same. You see, yesterday, I didn't even know the future Queen knows how to ride a bike."

Bea laughed. "There's no rush, Skye. With you, I know I can take my time to get to know you. However long that is."

Skye sighed. "Bea, you know there's very little time for us. You can't keep the Selection going for a long time just so we could keep doing this. The people will get restless."

"I can try," Bea opened the bottle of champagne she brought along with practiced ease and poured the golden liquid on the two glasses between them. "You told me not to think too hard about it, and I will. But I will not rush what we have."

She looked up in time to see the blush on Skye's cheek, which the redhead tried to hide by grabbing one of the glasses and downing the content in one go, and Bea couldn't help but laugh.

"Sorry," Skye smiled shyly, biting her lip. "I just… no one had ever said those words to me before, or even made this much effort just for me."

"You'll have to get used to it, then," Bea refilled Skye's glass then scooted to the edge of the docks, unlacing the sandals on her feet. Facing the lake, Bea dipped her feet on the cool lake water. "Here, try this."

Skye obliged, setting her glass on the blanket and taking off her boots before joining Bea on the edge and dipping her feet on the water as well. "Oh, that feels nice."

"Right?" Bea smiled. She looped her arm around Skye's and laid her head on the girl's shoulder, sipping on her champagne with a happy sigh. "I could get used to this."

"You can say that again." Skye whispered against Bea's hair. 

They stayed like that for an hour or so, not really noticing the time passing as they talked and held each other. It slipped their notice too how the sky darkened and the heavy clouds gathered overhead. 

Bea flinched when a drop of something cold hit her forehead, causing her and Skye to look up. "Oh, no. That's not good."

"I didn't know there was a rain forecast today." Skye frowned at the gray clouds above them. "We should go before it rains completely."

"Aw," she sighed heavily but followed Skye who started putting her boots back on and Bea did the same on her sandals, which had a  _ lot _ of laces. "I wanted to stay longer."

Skye offered her hands and Bea took them as she stood, coming up face to face with the redhead. "We'll be back, some other time." Skye promised. "Thank you for bringing me out here, I… I enjoyed every second of it."

Her disappointment disappeared as she looked back at the soft blue eyes staring back at her. "You're welcome, my lady."

The happiness in Skye's face was evident through her eyes and that smile that Bea was so fond of. Bea squeezed her hands and captured Skye's lips with hers. Skye held her close and her hand settled on the redhead's shoulder. They smiled against each others' lips which grew bigger when they felt the rush of heavy rain all around them.

"Oh my god!" Bea gasped as she and Skye turned their faces up and let the rain wash over them. Skye's laughter was so light and carefree, like a sweet music to her ears. At this point, they were both drenched from the rain and just as bad as Vizmund, the white dog trying to shrug the water from his fur to no avail. Bea turned to Skye and pressed her forehead against hers. 

"This isn't so bad!" Skye yelled over the sound of the rain falling.

"Maybe, but we have to go before anyone suspects we were missing!"

"On the count of three?"

"Yes," Bea nodded. "Three!" 

With that, she ran to the picnic blanket and collected their basket and the leftovers which were all wet by now before running to the bikes.

"That's not how you count!" Skye called after her, looking pleasantly offended. 

"It is if we don't want to get in trouble!" Bea laughed. She attached the basket at the back and climbed on the bicycle as Skye reached hers. "Race you to the palace?"

"Oh, it's on!" Skye smirked before they sped through the path in the forest under the heavy rain.

"Be careful though!" Bea reminded.

Vizmund's bark responded to them as he ran past, his fur now covered in mud and dirt. 

Soon, they made it out of the forest within a few minutes and a pair of surprised guards met them at the entrance of the main palace doors. 

They stepped off the bicycles and handed them over to the men. "Could you please take these back to the stables?"

"Y-Yes, Princess," one of them stuttered in response.

When the guards left, Bea exchanged glances with Skye and they burst out laughing again.

"Did you see their faces?" Bea asked.

"Have you seen what we look like?" Skye asked back.

She looked down on their clothes, which were sticking to their skin with splatters of mud and dried leaves all over their skirts and legs. Their hair stuck to their faces as well, still dripping.

"My goodness…" a horrified voice spoke behind them and Maria stepped out of the main palace doors, eyes wide as she took in their appearances.

Grace had the same look on her face. "What… on earth… happened here?"

Vizmund took that moment to shake his fur and sprayed water to anyone within the five foot radius around their group.

Maria and Grace shrieked, stepping back to avoid it. The four of them heard a pair of gasps and they all turned as one to find two ladies standing frozen and had been sprayed by rain water from the dog.

"Miss Mia," Maria gaped at one of the girls, a blonde dressed in fashionable attire, not knowing how to properly apologize.

"Lady Sydney!" Bea smiled, recognizing the other one. 

"Your Highness?" Sydney squinted, looking at Bea from head to toe, then to Skye. "I have so many questions…"

"Me too," Grace agreed, eyeing them. "Where have you two been?"

"Somewhere!" Bea said.

"The gardens," Skye answered at the same time, exchanging nervous glances, which didn't escape the maid's watchful gaze.

The blonde girl, Mia, wiped her face carefully with a monogrammed handkerchief then curtsied. "This isn't how I expected our meeting would be but it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness. My name is Mia, Mia Warren."

"Warren?" Bea raised her eyebrows. "Like…?"

"Max, yes. He's my older brother." Mia drawled. "But if anyone asks, we're not related. Like at all."

Skye snickered at that and stopped when everyone looked at her.

"Uh, welcome to the palace," Bea tried to stand as dignified as she could with her dirty clothes and wet hair. "These are Miss Maria, you'll be working with her. Grace, my lady's maid, and finally, Lady Skye."

They all greeted each other and Maria was already catching them up with the work they will all be doing. 

"My ladies," Grace turned to her and Skye. "I suggest you get changed and warmed up before either of you gets sick."

"Right." Bea replied sheepishly.

"I'll take you to your rooms," Maria told the other two ladies.

Bea watched Lady Sydney reach for Mia's hand and they followed Maria into the palace hand-in-hand.

"Okay, come on, Bea," Grace took her arm as a maid rushed over with a pair of fluffy towels for them.

"There," She took the two and wrapped Skye with one of them before putting the other around her shoulders. "Good night, Skye."

"Good night, Bea." Skye returned softly.

Grace shot them both a look before taking Bea's arm and dragging them up the stairs. Skye separated from them once they reached the third floor but not before sending a smile her way. 


	21. Loyal Friend And Subject

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mysterious shenanigans, and also there's a party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone!! sorry, we know it's been a hot second since we posted. but here's a long-awaited update! hopefully the gayness in the last chapter was enough to tide you over until now <3 <3 <3

“I had an idea,” Ajay said suddenly, about half an hour into his and Bea’s date. The two were sitting in the library reading, cups of tea by their sides.

Bea immediately closed the book she was reading. “About the pin?”

Ajay nodded. “Do you remember that movie we were watching the other day?”

_ Not really _ , Bea thought, but still nodded. “Yeah, the one with that New Asian actor. Jun… something.”

The memories were a bit hard to parse, since the entire movie and the evening following it had been so full of dizzying memories of Skye. Bea shook her head and tried to focus on Ajay.

“So,” he was saying, “I went down there alone the other night to watch another movie, and I picked another movie with that same actor and director, because I knew I liked them. And the plot of the movie revolved around a rich woman, who I later found out was played by Jun’s wife, Hera.”

Bea blinked. “Wait, Hera Lee? The… the owner of the heirloom?”

“I think so,” Ajay nodded. “And get this: one of the scenes in the movie featured Jun’s character, who was a scrappy kind of man, pointing out Hera’s character’s hairpin, which was covered in diamonds. He said it was a sign of how much money she had if she would even put diamonds on something as insignificant as a hairpin.”

“Oh my god,” Bea said, sitting up so that her book slid off her lap and fell to the floor. “Did they show the pin? Did it look like…?”

Ajay nodded solemnly. “I think… the pin belongs to Jun Lee.”

“Then how did it get here?” Bea wondered. “I didn’t see anyone like that at the party, but also I didn’t make the guest list. Was he at my grandfather’s birthday ball?”

Ajay shook his head. “No. I asked my…  _ Andy’s _ butler about it, and he told me that Jun Lee died about four years ago.”

“What?” Bea gasped. “Did he have any kids?”

“I don’t know,” Ajay admitted. “I couldn’t find a lot of information on him. If he did, he probably kept them out of the public eye. And if he didn’t, he might’ve donated the pin to some charity after his death, like as an auction gift.”

The two sat there in silence for a bit, then Bea thought of something.

“The computer,” she said. “It searches through all the books and newspapers and magazines and stuff. I’m sure that if Jun and Hera had any children, they would be listed somewhere in there. Maybe we’d even get a name.”

“And then we could see if they were on the guest list,” Ajay concluded excitedly. Bea stared; she’d never seen the usually mild-mannered Ajay get genuinely enthusiastic about anything.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that… I think the owner of this pin saved my life,” he explained. “I can remember a little bit more about the attack, and I know I was under one of the columns in the main room. Then they found me tucked away in some alcove. I think someone put me there to keep me safe, because if I had still been in the ballroom I could’ve been killed when the bombs went off.”

“So you want to thank them,” Bea nodded, also feeling deeply grateful to whoever Ajay’s savior had been. “I get it. I want to thank them too, for saving you.”

In a different context, that might have been something romantic to say. If it had been said to Skye, it might have been followed with a kiss. But with Ajay, her statement was met only with a sincere smile and an arm offered to her, helping her up from the couch to walk over to the room with the computer.

Ajay looked just as amazed by the secret room in the library as he had the first time he’d seen it, staring around at all the copies of rare books and books written in dead or dying languages. Bea made a beeline to the computer, logging in with a press of her fingertip and a retina scan. In the search function, she typed “Jun Lee children” and pressed enter, waiting a minute or so for the computer to generate the results.

The computer truly was a marvel. Not only were computers incredibly rare, but this one was extremely powerful. The Royal Archivist had been responsible for digitizing all newspapers and magazines into the database, making it so Bea could search through hundreds of years of news in just a few seconds. 

Bea tapped her fingers on the desk while she waited for the computer to load, and Ajay came over to rest his hands on the back of her chair.

“That thing’s amazing,” he said. “It really has all the newspapers and stuff inside?”

“Yes!” Bea said proudly, patting the top of the computer. “It’s amazing.”

The search results finally loaded. Ajay whistled low.

“Twenty thousand results? Geez, that will take a while.”

Bea sighed. “Yeah, I know. Let me refine it a little. When did you say Jun died? Four years ago?”

“About,” Ajay nodded. Bea set the date back four years and sorted the news articles by the most credible. “We don’t want any tabloid stuff,” Bea explained.

Slightly fewer results loaded this time, and Bea started from the top of the list, an article from an Angeles newspaper. She scanned the article: “NEW ASIAN ACTOR KILLED BY ASSASSIN”. 

“Okay, okay, it says here that he was predeceased by his wife, Solarian singer and actress Hera Lee, and he was survived by his 48-year-old sister, Mei Lee, and his 15-year-old daughter, Grace Lee.”

Bea and Ajay looked at each other. “So we’re either looking for a 52-year-old woman or… an nineteen-year-old woman?” Ajay guessed.

“Did we have a Mei on the guest list?” Bea wondered. “The only Grace I can think of that’s that age is Grace Williams.”

“I can double check, but I don’t think the King Father has any New Asian friends,” Ajay said. “I– I don’t want to say this, because I could be wrong, but… do you think that could be… our Grace?”

Bea furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t think so. Wouldn’t she have said something? I can’t imagine the daughter of two famous celebrities just accepting life as a Six. And anyways, wouldn’t she have her dad’s money?”

Ajay fell silent, still thinking. “Well… I don’t know. But it just looks a little strange. What other nineteen-year-old Asian Grace from Angeles would’ve been at that party?”

Bea had to think about that. Could it be true? Could Grace have been lying to her this whole time, and actually had a deeper past than she knew?

“It would explain the way she talks and acts,” Bea said, thinking out loud. “Not that she acts spoiled or anything, but just the way that she’s so comfortable with nobles and celebrities, and how she knows how to dance and she knows etiquette and other things that a Six wouldn’t know. I mean, I saw how much even the Fours in the Selection were struggling with learning etiquette. I’d think it would be harder for a Six, and I’ve never seen Rita or Greg act quite so refined as she does.”

“I mean, it could just be a coincidence,” Ajay said. “But the owner of this pin saved my life. It’s a very odd thing for a complete stranger to do, to put their life at risk to save me. But if it was Grace, I mean…”

“I know,” Bea said. “I’m not saying it’s her, but… do you think it’s worth a shot to ask?”

Ajay nodded, taking the pin out of his shirt pocket, where he always put it for safekeeping. He looked at it thoughtfully.

“I think so,” he said. “Do you want to ask? Or should we do it together?”

“Together,” Bea said. “I know you two have become good friends lately.”

Ajay nodded. “We have. I hope that, if it is hers, that she knows she can trust us.”

Bea pressed her lips together. She hoped the girl could trust her, too. 

***

"I'd like to point it out," Frank said on their way down the prison in the basement. "That I'm only allowing this to happen because I doubt Porter would likely speak about what he knew."

"How can you be sure of that?" Bea asked.

"Because…" the general hesitated. "He's been tortured before and he never spoke a word."

She nodded, understanding the situation. Bea understood that doing this for her, Frank was already going behind the King Father's back and could possibly get in trouble for it. It took her a bit of convincing him to accompany her to this plan. As soon as she told him about it this morning, Frank instantly shook his head and said, "Absolutely not." 

The fact that he believed Wes Porter wouldn't be any useful to her was the reason he humored her request in the first place.

"I dismissed the wardens for a couple of hours," he informed her as they walked through the hall. "I don't think they'll talk but it's better safe than sorry."

"Good plan," Bea agreed. 

She had gone familiar with this area of the palace by now, but the sight of the prisoners begging her to be released still unnerved her to no end.

When they reached Porter's cell, Bea couldn't help but glance at Noah's, which was only about five doors down the hall. She was wondering how he was doing now, Bea made sure the guards would leave him alone and not hurt him, but she couldn't bring herself to check on him. 

Wes Porter sat on the dark corner of his cell when they got to his door, looking unkempt as ever, and he was actually surprised to see them standing there.

"Stay where you are, Porter," Frank snapped before the guy could move, unlocking the cell door with his key and swung it open. Wes shrugged, sitting back on the cold hard floor.

Bea walked in, scanning the interior of the small cell instantly for any danger but so far, it looks similar to Noah's. 

"Princess," Wes nodded, a curious smirk on his face. "I'd bow, but I'm not sure I'd want to and Frank the Tank here told me not to move."

_ Blunt _ , Bea thought.  _ This would be interesting _ . 

"Watch your tone, Porter," Frank growled. "You're in the presence of your future Queen."

"Even I figured that out, General." The guy replied mockingly. "Although I'm not sure what a prisoner like myself could be of any use to the princess."

"We're just here to ask a few questions, Mr. Porter." Bea spoke. 

"Oh?" Wes looked around, like he was expecting more people. "More tortures then? Alright, I supposed we can have another go."

She sighed. "We're not here to torture anyone. I don't think it was going to work anyway."

She turned around and went to grab the chair on the corner, taking a seat, which caused the two guys to raise their eyebrows questioningly. "Might as well be sitting in." 

Wes watched her, suspicious, before glancing at Frank and back to her. "What are you two playing out here?"

"I was recently attacked by a stranger and I've been looking into it ever since," Bea started, hands set on her lap. "We were hoping you could give light to it somehow."

"Well, it's not me if that's what you're trying to say." 

"I never said or implied that it was you." She retorted.

"I may be good at inquiring information, but not from down here." Wes shook his head. "I'm not sure what you want to hear from me."

Not sure how else she would be able to explain what they came over for, Bea crouched down and grabbed the hunting knife from under the skirt of her dress, where she had been keeping it by the strap she put around her left calf. 

Frank was even more surprised. "What the…?"

"Yes, General," Bea nodded. "I've kept it with me since I took it from the evidence if that's what you're about to ask." She held it out to Wes. "I'm sure you're familiar with this."

"Your Highness, are you handing the prisoner a weapon?" Frank stepped forward slowly, ready to pounce if needed.

Bea sat back on her chair, eyeing Wes as he took the knife she offered from her cautiously. "Mr. Porter wouldn't dare use the knife against a defenseless girl, would he now?"

"The pin on your hair has a sharpened tip, almost as lethal as a knife if used the right way," Wes pointed out, smirking. "I can hardly consider you defenseless, Your Highness."

"Observant," Bea smiled. "I supposed most of the things the reports said about you were right. Now, how about you tell us what you knew about that knife?"

The guy examined the knife with interest, thumb taking a feel on the etched symbol on the hilt. "Last time I saw it was on a ground, next to the body of the person who made it."

"The person who made it?" Bea crossed her arms, listening intently. "Could you please elaborate?"

Wes laughed bitterly. "You realized this is asking a lot for the guy you all sent to prison from a baseless accusation, right?" 

"You knew it wasn't baseless, Porter." Frank shot him a glare. "Travel documents, letters exchanged from an unknown sender… all led us to one place." 

"I was a spy, Walters, what do you expect?" Wes drawled. 

"I'm more interested in which side you had been on, Wes." Bea leaned forward, trying to read the guy's face, which wasn't easy. "My father tried to defend your case, were you aware of that?"

He stayed silent.

"Tell me. Did King Alan indeed just wasted his time pleading your case to everyone and risked his own standing on his own Council, Mr. Porter? Because I knew my father, he wouldn't stand up for something he doesn't believe in."

"Defending me was probably the stupidest decision he had ever done in his life." Wes mumbled, his tone had an edge to it. "He knew the consequences. He didn't listen."

Bea narrowed her eyes at Wes. "I'm not sure how I'd feel from the way you speak about my father. He'd do the right thing, he's not the kind to lie about something like that."

"I suggest you think carefully on who you trust as well, Your Highness" he warned. "It would be a shame if you end up making the same decisions he did."

Frank moved his hand to the gun on his holster. "Watch… your… tone, Porter."

Wes held up his hands and shrugged. "Just saying."

"No, I think you're stalling." Bea disagreed. "Listen, Mr. Porter, unlike what everyone thinks, I don't have all the time in the world to  _ chill _ at court when there's this never-ending coup against my life and my entire family. Now, I don't trust you-- rightfully so, I might add-- but I might be the only person in the world willing to listen to your words so I repeat, tell me what you know about this knife."

Both men stared wordlessly at her for a few moments.

"Fine," Wes conceded with a heavy breath. "In one condition."

"Name it." 

"I… I want to talk to someone." 

Bea shrugged. "Done."

"My lady," Frank gaped. "We can't just let him talk to anyone--"

"It's Autumn Brooks, isn't it?" She asked Wes, who was surprised, confirming her suspicions. "I thought you might ask about her."

While Bea had been doing her research, she took the liberty to dig deeper into the lives of the people she was looking into. She found out about Autumn Brooks, the girl Wes was engaged with before King Alan sent him to a mission to find the Northerners. It was also mentioned once in the report files about how Wes demanded to talk to her before which was heavily denied from him. Bea went asking around for her and she found out Autumn Brooks was actually a writer on the Solari News, so it wasn't that hard to reach out for her.

For the first time, Wes appeared to have smiled at her statement, shaking his head. "You never leave any stone unturned, do you?" 

"What do you say about that?" Bea leaned back expectantly.

"Demetrius." Wes simply said. 

She raised an eyebrow. "Demetrius?" 

"That was the name of the man who made that knife." He continued. "And was also the last of the Northern leaders to have lived. I saw that same hunting knife with him while King Alan and I had been talking to him."

"What happened to the talk?"

"The Northerners were a lot more peaceful than we thought they were. They have a place in Ottaro, in the middle of a field which was their source of living, and we saw the kind of community they have created themselves in that compound. No castes, no status. It's a real community and King Alan admired it."

A part of her kept reminding Bea that the words coming out from Wes might not be true but it was hard to stay doubtful when she knew her father would actually like the idea of that, a community without castes.

Bea remembered how King Alan used to sit with them during his leisure times, telling them how the old American life was and how he wanted to restore that kind of life to his country before the war changed everything. It was messy, it was chaotic, he said. But the people were free to be whoever they wanted to be. 

"It wasn't hard for the northerners to warm up to him as well. King Alan wasn't like his father. Demetrius admitted he admired him."

"And you believed that?" Frank asked, disdainful.

"He had a family, General." Wes reminded him. "And his people have their families and he wanted better lives for them. Demetrius clarified that he wasn't against the monarchy, he was against the castes. King Alan told them it won't be easy to turn everything back and he said a life better than the one they have would be worth the wait. He was willing to work with the king."

Frank nodded. "Because they were planning to kill him right there." 

He glared at the general. "I don't know where that came from but the King came to their territory in good faith. So imagine our surprise when the dozens of the King's Guards came charging in, slaughtering everyone they came across to."

"That order never came from me," the general argued. "I sent them up there to make sure the King makes it home safe."

"I saw how betrayed the Northerners had felt. King Alan tried to tell his men to stand down but no one listened until everyone was dead."

"Oh my god," Bea felt her heart sink, turning to Frank. "General, is this true?"

Frank looked down, guilt all over his face. "I only heard it when King Alan came back. I swear I didn't know what happened."

"Because you weren't there." Wes agreed. "Lieutenant Samuels led the troops. King Alan sent me away when he realized I could get in trouble for coming with him and he asked me to look into Samuels. Your lieutenant had ties with the Southerns, so surprise, General. There was a traitor in your team."

"That can't be right, Samuels had been stationed in the South for years now." 

"Quite conveniently, I might say." The guy laughed. "Aren't you at least wondering how a lieutenant got that much wealth after being in service for a few years?"

"If that's true, how come you never spoke about this when we asked what you were questioning you?"

"What am I supposed to do? He was the one leading my torture."

Bea doesn't know who Lieutenant Samuels was but the look on Frank's face was that of disbelief. It was possible he might have no idea about it. Sighing, she rubbed her face and decided to join in. "That is a different matter that we really need to look into. Which doesn't answer who the stranger who had broken into my room. How did he get a hold of this knife?"

"Beats me." Wes shrugged.

"Alright," Bea nodded. "Frank, find everything you can on this Samuels fellow and see if he might be onto something. Discreetly, please. And Wes… well, we had a deal. Frank will see to it that you get to talk to Miss Brooks."

She held out her hand and Wes handed the knife back to her. "Thank you, Mr. Porter, I'm sure we can use the bits of information you gave us to find something."

Bea stood and Frank shot the guy a begrudging look and nodded. 

Wes gave her a reluctant salute. "Nice chatting with you, Princess. Till next time, I suppose."

  
  


***

  
  


"Do you think this will be enough?" Bea asked, fiddling with the sleeves of her brother's jacket as they walked down the stairs.

"You've been worrying about that since you came up with the idea," Grace sighed, trailing behind them with Vizmund on her side.

Ian nodded sympathetically. "You're doing what you can, Bea. I know you'd prefer to go see and help in person but Clermont is across the country."

"Not to mention it can't be safe with the current weather over there." Grace added.

"There has to be something else we can do, right?" Bea wondered. They reached the doors to the outside and were instantly greeted by the joyous sound of music and guests milling around the garden with colorful drinks in hand and in the middle of happy conversations with their peers.

Just a couple of days ago, a strong hurricane had hit one of their provinces, Clermont, really hard and it had been continuously under a state of calamity. Clermont was located on the southeastern part of Solari, formerly known as Florida from the old America, had a long history of being hurricane-prone and storms due to its geographic location and the bodies of water surrounding it.

Billions worth of damages had been reported to them and still counting if the severe raining wouldn't stop, causing her to worry even more despite the help they had been sending over for the people affected by the hurricane. 

Her first instinct was to fly over and see what's needed to be done, like the way they did in Honduragua, but the King Father increased the security to make sure she or any of her friends wouldn't be able to sneak out. Not that anyone wanted to, the hurricane made it almost impossible to use helicopters or planes to fly over and it would be highly dangerous for them.

So instead, Bea decided to invite the wealthiest among the people of Solari to raise funds and encourage them to help their fellow Solarians in their time of need.

The paths leading to the garden were decorated with arches adorned with scented flowers and vines hanging overhead setting a romantic mood over the party. 

They weren't exactly late, but everyone knew the people at court were eager to celebrate and have a party over just about anything, which was the reason why Bea decided to throw a fundraiser. She'd been up by six in the morning and headed to the study immediately with Frank and a couple of advisors to monitor the situation and the progress of the evacuation team they sent over with supplies for the people in need. They got visuals too, and it didn't help that she could literally see what was happening over in Clermont. 

Bea sighed and put a smile on her face. "Alright, we're here to gather their sympathies and possibly their money so please chin up and put your charming smiles on."

Ian didn't need to be told twice. As they arrived, her brother was already greeting a group of young nobles nearby and separated from Bea. She had talked to the others the night before as well, sending them with the same order to charm the guests into donating for the benefit of Clermont. She knew Ajay, Rory and the others would follow through with it. She already saw Caleb talking with a bunch of women. A bit distance away, Mason had managed to befriend a group of gentlemen over golf with Max attempting to learn as well. Aiden was sitting by the piano, playing along with the ballad being performed by the popular band they hired just for the garden party.

The only one Bea couldn't see contributing to the effort was Brian, but he already expressed his opinion yesterday by having the Crandall family donate a large sum for the benefit, making sure to beat everyone else. 

Bea sighed at the thought, if only their money wasn't so needed by the people, she wouldn't have let Brian have the chance to brag and hold that all over everyone's heads.

Bea spotted a flash of red hair in the opposite corner from Brian, though, and couldn’t stop herself from heading over there. She shot a quick glance at Grace to see if the other girl had noticed, and Grace just raised an eyebrow. A small smile was on the maid’s lips, making Bea roll her eyes with a small grin as well.

Everyone at the party were in pastel colors, even the guys, but Skye was still wearing black lipstick and a black dress with lace on it like a mourning widow. Bea shook her head. It was adorable.

Bea made an executive decision and walked over to Skye, trying not to make it look too obvious that she was headed over to the redhead. Grace followed dutifully, her job at this party to attend to Bea’s needs. Bea knew that the girl meant well, but that she would hear anything that she said to Skye. So she needed to be careful. As soon as Skye looked up and blue eyes met Bea’s brown ones, though, she was intercepted right before she reached the corner by a trio in blue, white and pink.

"Ladies," She offered the women in front of her with a smile. “How are you enjoying the party?”

Payton grinned back, Sydney and Mia at her side. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “It’s so good of you to be doing such a good thing for Clermont. The hurricane that hit… it’s just so horrible.”

Bea nodded solemnly. “The damage to the houses, to the streets…” Bea trailed off, trying not to think about the images she’d seen on TV. She looked away, trying to gauge the party, but her eyes landed on Mia and Sydney.

More importantly, on Mia and Sydney’s linked hands. Bea looked away quickly, trying not to act suspicious, but she couldn’t forget what she’d seen. Miss Mia and Lady Kym? She knew they were close friends, they had always been best friends at court. Bea had even been jealous of their friendship before, not having many close friends of her own as a kid. But holding hands-- was that just a symbol of their friendship, or was it something more?

Bea was distracted through the rest of the conversation with the ladies, as she tracked Mia and Sydney’s interactions. The girls smiled to each other more than they smiled to anyone else, and every so often, when Sydney would laugh, Mia would get an odd glimmer in her eye and would squeeze her hand.

_ They can’t just be friends _ , Bea realized.  _ But of course they can’t admit to a relationship, can they? _

"Ah, there she is," a gruff voice interjected and Max pushed his way into their circle. "My sister and her  _ girlfriend _ have come back to court after their scandalous trip across Europe together."

Bea was taken aback, not only from the way Max had said the word  _ girlfriend _ as if it was the dirtiest thing to ever come out of his mouth, but also from the unflustered smile on Mia's face in response to her brother's words. 

"At least I have one," Mia retorted with pride. "Last time I checked, yours dumped you after you lost the last few games in the previous season."

Max pouted like an angry oversized toddler while Grace and Bea gasped. Payton giggled, but tried to hide it by taking a sip of her champagne. Sydney was beaming proudly as Mia raised their linked hands to Max.

"That gotta sting," Grace whispered to Bea, making them snicker.

_ So I was right, _ Bea thought.  _ They really have something. _

"I'd apologize, Your Highness," Mia said when she turned to Bea. "Him being your suitor and everything, but someone has to remind him of his declining success rate on sports lately."

"You're just salty because Dad practically disowned you." Max huffed.

Unsure whether to stick around while the siblings bicker back and forth, Bea shifted on her feet a little, wishing Max would just walk away to save himself some dignity before his sister destroyed what little left he had. Judging from the look on Mia's face, she wasn't planning on letting him walk all over them like that. Something Bea wished she had the same courage too. 

"Oh, brother," Mia cooed with a feigned sympathy. "As if Dad would disown the only child he has that has an actual career and an established reputation."

The guy's face turned alarmingly red and Bea put a cautious hand on his arm, forcing a placating smile on her face. "Max, aren't you playing golf with the gentlemen over there? I'm sure they'd be missing your company by now."

Max huffed angrily once more before storming off, leaving the ladies in silence and Bea in relief. The last thing they'd need was to have a fight before the party truly started. 

"I'm so sorry about that, Bea," Sydney apologized with a sheepish smile. "We'll try to avoid him for the sake of peace."

"It's Max, he won't be leaving us alone." Mia rolled her eyes.

"It's fine, Syd." Bea replied, looking from the lady to the blonde next to her. "By now, I think I've come to know some of my suitors well."

Mia frowned. "I hope he's not like that around you." 

"I don't think he would if he wanted to." Bea smiled, knowing as tough as Max tried to act, he was no Brian Crandall. Max recognized and feared what Bea and her family could possibly do if he decided to step out of the line. "If he happens to try anything else, I'll be sure to tell you."

Both girls smiled at that.

Grace leaned over to speak. "Miss Mia, I think that was really cool, by the way. That would teach him."

"Thank you, honey."

"So," Bea raised an eyebrow at their hands, unable to keep her curiosity waiting any longer. "Are you two really…?"

"Dating?" Payton finished for her, shooting a playful look at the two.

Sydney's face flushed, in contrast to the proud grin on Mia's. "A while now…"

"And you've known about this, Lady Payton?" Grace asked.

"The whole time," Payton looked at the two with fondness. "They're my best friends, I'd always support and be happy for them."

"Aw, Payton," Mia rushed over to wrap the other lady in a tight hug and Sydney joined them.

Bea watched the whole scene, her heart softened. "Well, I'm happy for you two, and I'm proud you're standing up for what you have."

"Thank you, Your Highness." 

She grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter and held it up for the ladies. "For your happiness."

"Hear, hear," Payton cheered. They all clink glasses and sipped.

"On that note, I should have a few words for my other guests," Bea dipped her head as the three ladies dropped in curtsies before she walked away, Grace in tow. 

"At least someone's love story is going well." Grace remarked wistfully as they made their way to the stage.

Bea faced her. "What do you mean?"

"They have every reason to be scared of having this kind of relationship, but look at them," the girl's eyes turned to Mia and Sydney, whose arms are linked like usual, smiling and chatting happily with Payton and now Frank who joined them.

Bea noticed the two ladies have already caught some of the attention of the guests and a few whispers here and there, but whether they were aware of it or not, the couple did not seem to care. She pushed the feeling of envy out of her mind, it was hard not to think about Skye whenever she'd see them so happy and open about what they have.

Grace was right. Mia and Sydney have every reason to be scared for being together. Bea used to never care about the story of the founding of Solari but when the first King placed the caste system to his people, it became a law that every family would fall to the caste of the patriarch, the husband. There had to have one male head of the family in every household or there wouldn't be one at all. 

They have heard of a few cases where people would live with their partners without the presence of marriage, referring to them as their roommates, but they always suffer severe discrimination from those around them. She couldn't understand why, the castes were already making everyone's lives hard enough, and yet, some people would still go out of their way to make others' lives harder than it had to be. 

Bea knew that had been the situation even before the world war. Same-sex couples being shunned to the point that some of them would leave town, or even the country. They were forced to stay within the shadows, hide themselves from the society in fear of the reactions of those around them. Now that she thought about it, Sydney's disappearance from court for almost a year made more sense once she was aware of the real reason. Bea understood it now more than ever, and every moment she had with Skye would always be associated with the feeling of fear and wariness that someone might see through what they truly feel for each other.

"Bea?" Grace set a hand on her arm, interrupting her thoughts. 

"Yes?" Bea asked, surprised.

"You've been staring at the people a while." 

_ Oh. _ Bea took a deep shaky breath and put on a regal smile. "Sorry, I guess it's time for a small speech?"

Grace gave her a weird look but nodded. "The floor is yours."

The band had stopped playing and stepped aside as she walked to the platform where they had been performing and the chattering died down when she tapped a spoon against her glass. Every guest turned to the stage expectantly, waiting for her to say a word.

"A pleasant morning to everyone," Bea walked to the center of the stage, glass in hand. "I'm sure you're aware of the reason why we all gathered here this fine morning. First, I want to thank you all for being here and joining us for our cause. Not that I'd have to force you to come, who doesn't love a good party, eh?" she added, earning a chorus of laughter from the guests. 

"Unfortunately, as pleasant as the day seems to be for a good garden party, Clermont hasn't been having the same pleasant weather as we do. The hurricane had left the province of Clermont in such a horrible state of calamity and that was the very reason that I come to you as your Princess to sympathize with our fellow Solarians and offer them a helping hand in this time of need. I've seen the numbers myself and we are very grateful to everyone who already sent some generous amount for the cause and any donations, in any form, will be much appreciated by the people of Clermont." Bea raised her glass in the air. "For the recovery of Clermont!"

"Clermont!" Ian cheered, raising his glass as well. Everyone followed and there was a round of applause as the music started to play once more. 

She beamed at the crowd standing before. "Please, do enjoy the party!"

Bea stepped off the stage and the band happily picked up where they left off. Grace came back to her side. "Nice speech."

"Was it?"

"Yes," her brother appeared at her side, grinning. "You're getting good at this."

"Um, thanks, I suppose." Bea smiled. "I had half a mind to put you up for bidding."

"How dare you?" Ian gasped, pretending to be offended. "I praised your speech and you'll want people to bid for me?"

"Go, be a good party boy," she laughed, pushing him towards the guests. "Don't make me rethink it. Besides, it's not like you haven't hooked up with half the court ladies by now."

"You're the worst!" Ian called cheekily before heading to a bunch of ladies gathered around a table.

Bea settled on one of the stand-up tables near the stage as she watched the party going on around her. 

There was a space for dancing in front of the stage but so far, no one went out there to dance. She turned to Grace and the girl had been looking around, as if looking for someone. 

Bea looked around too, realizing Vizmund was no longer at their side. "Where did he go?"

"Ajay?" Grace asked, startled. "I don't know. I haven't seen him either."

_ Ajay? _ Bea raised an eyebrow. "I meant Vizmund."

"Oh," the shorter girl's eyes widened, blushing. Probably embarrassed. "I didn't see him either…?"

She eyed the other girl, wondering why Grace was so distracted lately. Bea put a hand on Grace's arm, squeezing gently. "You okay, Grace?"

"Uh, yeah?" Grace nodded quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

_ Okay… _ Bea studied her face once more knowing there was something the girl hadn't been telling her before deciding to let it go. "Can you please find Vizmund?"

"Why? We're in the garden, he's probably just around sniffing flowers and chasing bees."

"We don't know what he might do, Grace. Last time we had a garden party, he crashed the desserts table while chasing a butterfly."

Grace paused for a moment, recalling the event from last year when Vizmund plowed through tables and guests in pursuit of a pretty butterfly. "Good point. I'll be back."

Watching the girl go, Bea took a sip from her glass and almost spluttered when she felt a small hand settle on her waist briefly and the familiar scent of rose invaded her senses as Skye appeared from behind and stood on the table next to her.

"Hey." Skye whispered in passing, her warm breath sending goosebumps down Bea's neck. 

"Hey," seeing the redhead instantly put a smile on her face. "What have you been up to?"

"Let me think," Skye pretended to think, and Bea felt compelled to kiss the smirk off her face. "Oh. Literally nothing."

Bea arched an eyebrow at her. "You don't think this party was boring, do you?"

The redhead took her time answering, taking a sip of the red wine in her glass. "No, of course not. Just the people."

"Sure," she teased. "Is that why you came looking for your favorite person in the world?"

"Who?"

Bea pouted. "I thought I was your favorite person in the world."

"Oh, sorry. I was here for Vizmund." Skye played along, her smile brightening. "You didn't happen to see him, did you? I thought he'd be here."

Feigning a sulk, Bea sighed heavily. "Yeah, he went somewhere to sniff some flowers. You can go find him too if you want."

"Well, Vizmund's my favorite boy in the world," Skye set her glass on the table and leaned close to her, lowering her voice. "But my favorite person is right here."

"Lady Skye," she smiled. "That's awfully sweet coming from you."

The redhead turned bashful. "Don't get used to it."

A comfortable silence passed for a few minutes as they watched the party around them. Aiden had been having too much fun with the band and sometimes the quartet in the corner when the pop band would take a break. There were a bunch of people playing croquet not far from their spot and Bea shook her head, seeing Ian being passed around by the ladies asking him to teach them how to play it. They knew how to play it, of course, but why not asked a prince who was more than eager to help and assist, right? 

"You know I'm surprised you and your brother didn't match outfits all the time." Skye started, noting Ian's pastel red pants and royal blue jacket. "Isn't that a twin thing?"

"When we were younger, we did." Bea admitted, laughing a little as she remembered all those years when she and Ian would show up to parties wearing the same colors. They grew out of it when they became teens and they started to develop their own style. Today, Bea was wearing an asymmetrical ruffled skirt with blue butterfly prints and a cream sleeveless blouse with a huge ribbon on her back.

"I thought so," the redhead murmured.

Bea felt a small soft hand held hers under the table, hidden between their skirts and she couldn't help the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. "I'm really sorry if I might not be able to spend the whole party with you, especially with Grace being with me the entire time."

"It's fine, you have your duties, Bea. We can find some other time."

She responded by squeezing their hands gently. “So, I was thinking about something.”

“Yes?”

“...do you think we should tell Grace about us?”

Skye looked confused. “What? Why?”

Bea’s face heated up. “Well… I just… okay, so I’ve always found it really hard to hide things from her.”

“I see,” Skye replied. “I get it, but if we tell her… it makes everything worse once the Selection is over. How do we know she won’t say anything to the winner?”

“Grace wouldn’t do that,” Bea argued. “She’d accept it when… um,” she hedged, not wanting to think about when her fling with Skye would be over. “I just feel bad for keeping secrets from her.”

Skye squeezed her hand. “If you trust her, then I trust her,” Skye said. “So it’s up to you.”

Bea nodded, and then the two girls stood in silence for a bit.

"Hey,” Bea said. “Do you want to meet later tonight? Around ten, on the sixth floor?”

A legitimate smile made its way onto Skye’s face. “I’d love to,” she said.

"I'd love to what?" Grace asked suddenly, making them both jump as the girl walked over to their table with the white dog on her side and Ajay and Rory trailing behind her. 

"Uh, Skye was looking for Vizmund," Bea managed to come up. "And she'd love to see him!"

"You see him everyday." Grace pointed out, shaking her head at them before gesturing to the guys beside her. "Also, look who I found."

Rory immediately set himself beside Bea, that charming smile on his face. "Hello, gorgeous."

"Hi, yourself." Bea returned with the same smile, shooting Skye a shrug as the three joined the table. 

"Bea," Ajay nodded.

"Ajay. How are you enjoying the party?"

Ajay let out a deep breath. "I feel like I've had enough socializing to last me a century." 

"Says you," Rory grinned. "I'm loving this garden party so far. How about a game of croquet?"

"You're on." Bea replied.

"I suppose we could have a game or two." Ajay agreed.

Skye simply shrugged, following behind their group with Vizmund sticking on her side. 

***

Grace sat on one of the makeshift benches by the field, watching Bea and some of the suitors play croquet.

It was their third game, though, and Grace was getting a little bored. More people had wanted to join in, making this next game look like the longest one yet. But Bea looked like she was having fun, so that was really all that mattered.

Grace had been sitting with Lady Skye, who was very focused on the game. They hadn’t spoken at all, save for when Skye asked if she could sit with Grace. It was awkward, and Grace bounced her leg up and down, hoping that Bea or somebody else would come and break the silence.

Luckily, Grace’s wish had been answered, and no sooner had the third game officially started than Ajay dropped his croquet mallet and came to sit with Grace and Skye.

“Lady Skye,” he greeted the redhead. “And Miss Grace. May I sit with you?”

Skye just nodded, going back to her focus on the game, while Grace patted the seat beside her. 

“Bored of croquet?” she asked, a smile on her lips.

“Absolutely,” Ajay said. “I told you all, I’ve socialized enough for this century.”

“And yet you’re still talking to me,” Grace pointed out.

Ajay shrugged. “You’re a friend,” he said. “Socializing with strangers is what I meant.”

Grace nodded. She understood that feeling all too well. She might be more extroverted than Ajay was, but there were still times when she couldn’t stand the idea of talking to another stranger.

“Do you play croquet?” Ajay asked.

“Nope, never learned. I’m kind of lost here. Other than hitting the little ball through the hoops, I’m not sure what’s going on.”

"Me neither," Skye piped in. Grace blinked, a little startled to remember the other girl was still sitting there.

“Explain it to us,” Grace told Ajay. “Clearly you know it a little.”

Sighing and rolling his eyes playfully, Ajay quickly summarized the main point of croquet, how to earn points, how to win, and what not to do.

Grace and Skye exchanged blank glances. “Umm…” Skye said. “I’m not sure I understand it any better now.”

“Me neither,” Grace said apologetically. 

Ajay sighed again. “I don’t really know croquet either. I’ve always favored pool.”

“Pool?” Grace raised her eyebrows. “Greg loves that game. He keeps trying to teach me, but I just can’t get a hang of which ball to hit or how to hold the cue.”

Ajay gave a crooked smile. “Maybe I could teach you sometime, then.”

Grace’s heart jumped. “Yeah! Um. I mean, yes. That would be cool.” _Goddammit._ _Am I ever going to be able to keep my thoughts straight around this guy?_

Ajay laughed a little bit, and Grace very very slightly leaned closer to him, no longer even pretending to care about the game.

***

  
  


It was after lunch time when Bea made her way to study to check on the live feed of the rescue team they sent over to Clermont.

The storm surge had only calmed down a little but it was still pretty bad considering half of the province was flooded several feet off the ground. In some parts, a residential area near the docks were completely carried by the strong flash flood towards the sea and the coast guards were currently double checking the area for anyone stranded that might be needing their help. There were people missing, and the rescue team continuously had been doing as much effort as they could to reunite them with their families. The evacuation centers on the outskirts of Clermont were becoming crowded but Bea sent orders to open more places for the people. Food and supplies to keep everyone comfortable enough wouldn't be a problem for them, but she was worried about those who didn't get to the evacuation centers immediately.

Bea couldn't afford to let the worry distract her from her objectives for the day, so with a deep calming breath, she made her way out of the study and decided to head back to the party. 

They had a lot of fun during the croquet game but Bea escaped from it as soon as she could when she got hungry and went looking for food with Skye.

As much as the redhead looked bored during the whole game, staying on the sidelines watching, she stayed with Grace and later with Ajay once he got tired with it too. She dismissed Grace before she headed to the study, letting her have the rest of the day knowing she wouldn't need much assistance anyway.

Bea was walking down the hallway outside the Great Hall when she noticed Jordan sitting on the windowsill, staring at the huge portrait of her family on the wall, his dark-blonde hair looking windswept from the breeze coming from the window behind him.

"Jordan?" She called, approaching his spot.

The guy turned and smiled instantly, showing his set of perfect white teeth that should be on a television commercial. "Bea!"

"Was my family portrait more entertaining than the party outside?" Bea asked, leaning back on the space beside him and stared up the portrait as well. 

"You have a beautiful family, Your Highness," Jordan said, studying the image with interest. 

Bea smiled softly. "Thank you."

"And I don't mean that because you all look beautiful, but I see that there is the love within, you know?" He looked at her. "Not all powerful noble families can have that and it's admirable to see such a rare thing on yours."

"My father had a rough relationship with his parents and as you see with grandfather, he wasn't the warmest person around here," Bea said, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. "He had no siblings too, the closest he had to a brother was his cousin, my Uncle Stefan when he came over, or Greg Williams… the head cook who was raised in the palace. So my Dad grew up wanting that kind of love and he told mom that he'd want his children to feel that love that wasn't given to him."

"That's really sweet," Jordan agreed. "He was lucky to have found your mother then."

"He was, and my mother was lucky to have him as well. My brothers and I were lucky to have them as parents." She met his eyes. "Jordan, tell me about yours."

Two noble ladies passed by, shooting Jordan some bashful looks before realizing Bea was with him and the smile on their faces turned embarrassed before hurrying away, making them both laugh at that.

"I'm afraid there's not much to tell about my family." Jordan started, glancing at her. "My mom… she died giving birth to me."

Bea turned to him suddenly, surprised by the information. "I'm so sorry about that, Jordan."

"Oh, it's fine. I, uh, I never met her so I didn't have much to mourn about. Just that fact that I wished that I'd known her even for a bit. My dad told me lots of stories about her, though. She was a smart woman, probably would have been a teacher if she had the opportunity to really follow her true passion."

"What do you mean?" She frowned, confused. She thought Jordan was a Five.

"My mother grew up as a Two." The guy finally clarified. "She was a Mayor's daughter and she could have easily found a good match with the caste she lived in but… but she fell in love with a funny man." Jordan let out a quiet chuckle. "Who happened to be a Five."

"Oh." Bea nodded. She could see the conflict now.

"Suffice it to say, her family didn't approve when she told them she wanted to marry a Five, so it's either she leaves him behind and they'd find her a better match, or they'd disown her from their family and be a Five."

"That's harsh."

Unfortunately, it was a reality in their society that often happens. The people, especially the women, never had that much freedom when it comes to men they marry. So they had to be careful on who they give their hearts to and if they were willing enough to follow it. Women from higher status were usually destined to marry a man of the same rank or higher, and women from the lower castes get rarely noticed by men from higher castes. When it does, it would usually start a controversy.

"I know." He nodded grimly. "She didn't listen to her parents and they realized it was too late for her. She moved away and married my father. They were happy, considering the hard lives as Fives. We lived by this small house near the beach. Even when she got pregnant, her family never reached out to her. And then she gave birth to me."

Bea reached over and took Jordan's hand, giving it a gentle assuring squeeze. "Have you met them? Your mother's family?"

"Yeah, I've lived with them briefly. A few months when I was eleven." Jordan shook his head. "I learned recently that they actually tried to take custody over me when I was a kid but my dad fought them over it, a miracle in itself considering they have enough money to bribe the court without a problem. Those few months I've lived with them… well, they tried to be good grandparents to me. Or pretended to be. They just didn't know how to be. They never stopped criticizing my father's way of living, saying I could have more future with them."

Bea smiled. "I think you turned out quite well." 

"I think so, too," Jordan grinned. "It was just my Dad and I ever since and we did well enough together. He managed to send me to school and I've been working my way through college. I just wanted to show my grandparents that we didn't need their money, you know?"

"I see that, and you're doing great, Jordan." She said thoughtfully. "Is that why… you joined the Selection?"

"Hmm," he hummed, as if thinking. "Maybe, it's just one of those opportunities that suddenly showed up and I decided, why not? Might as well try."

"You've reached this far, I saw you're doing better than trying."

They both laughed. His laugh was so earnest, the look on his face always so bright. It was hard not to admire how Jordan never failed to keep a positive vibe through the challenges given to them during the Selection even when his caste itself was a disadvantage. "I think you're just tolerating us at this point."

"That's not true!" Bea pushed against his shoulder playfully. "I kept you around this far because… well, because I see I could really trust you. You, Michael and Caleb. Since that night of the attack, there was something about you guys that made me think you're worth keeping on my side and I was right."

"To be fair, you're the princess. We can't just leave you and Lady Skye to fend for yourselves."

"True, but I saw how you stood up and defended your fellow suitors from the others like Brian and Max. You also didn't have to go with me to Honduragua. You knew we were practically breaking at least a dozen rules just by sneaking out and you still went along with me."

Jordan looked at her like she said something ridiculous. "When you told us that we'd have to break ourselves out and fly for hours to dangerzone in order to help a city in need, that was the moment we knew you'd be different and we have to believe in you."

"And that's exactly why you're still here." Bea said. "I knew I had to keep the people who believe in me close around."

The guy gave her a gentle smile and looked up at the portrait. There was a pause and Bea could feel the lingering question in the air, as if Jordan was dying to ask her something and it was confirmed when he turned to face her with a weird look on his face. "Bea, do you… do you feel anything for me?"

The question caught her off guard and her eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Do you feel  _ anything _ for me?" He repeated.

Bea let the question replay inside her head again and again, waiting for it to be accompanied by something, anything.  _ Do I feel anything for Jordan? _ She thought, recalling all their dates and every time they spent together. First off, she felt safe and comfortable around him. Bea genuinely believed that Jordan wouldn't let anything happen to her as long as he had a say in it. His protectiveness and loyalty goes way above the fact that she's the princess and soon to be his queen. It was almost too familiar. Still, does that mean she feels anything for him?

"I…" Bea started, "I know I like you."

Jordan seemed unsatisfied by the answer. "Like me enough to be my wife?"

The grimace on their faces was almost simultaneous as he said the word  _ wife  _ and it was enough confirmation that any feelings between them were strictly platonic. Bea slowly shook her head, making sure not to make it look offensive.

"I thought so." Jordan sighed but she was surprised to see the look of relief on his face. "Wow… okay. At least we cleared that part."

Bea studied his face, amazed. "You're not mad?"

"Of course not," Jordan laughed. "It felt so good to hear you say it, to be honest. I mean, I didn't expect myself to fall head over heels with the princess when I came over here and even when I got to know you, I-- I don't know, I started to worry to lead you on somehow."

She laughed as well. "Now that I think about it, it would feel really weird to have any feelings other than friendship for you. Not that you're awful-- you're a great guy, Jordan. You're the whole damn package."

"Heh, thanks." He grinned. "You're like… like the little sister I never had, Bea."

"That, we can both agree on."

They both smiled up the portrait and Jordan appeared to have realized something too. "Does that mean you're sending me home?"

"Not unless you want to." Bea shrugged, thinking it over. "I like having you guys here. It felt less… trapping somehow, and it felt good to have some people I could feel truly comfortable with. How about you stay here, I mean till the last possible moment?"

"Sure. Living in a palace has its perks, I guess." He shrugged casually and they snickered before his face turned solemn. "I'll have your back, Bea. Not as a suitor, but as a loyal friend and subject."

She knew from that moment that he meant every word he said. Bea felt a lump in her throat, and she didn't know what to say. Turned out, she didn't have to. Jordan wrapped an arm around her shoulder on a side hug and squeezed her gently. 

"Jordan," A thought appeared in her head. "May I know what you dream of becoming someday?"

"Easy." His face brightened. "I've always wanted to be drafted and join the service."

She paused. "You want to be a soldier?"

"Mhm. Always been." 

"Even after everything you've seen around here?" She asked.

"I've always admired the Royal Army and I know it's not as easy as the movies made it look but I want to learn how to protect the people. I'm just worried what my Dad would say. I don't want him to assume I'm leaving him for a higher caste."

"From the way you talked about him, it sounds a lot like he was one of the best parents in the world and he really loves you. He won't see it that way."

"You think so?" Jordan asked.

Bea nodded. "And I think you'd make a great soldier, Jordan Lee."

"I'll consider it." He decided after a moment. "I suppose it wouldn't be so bad to be in service for the new Queen."

He said in a way that reminded her of when Leon used to tease her and she couldn't help but laugh. Jordan stood up, offering his hand to her. "Come on, I think I freaked out your family portrait enough as it is. There's a fundraiser we need to go back to."

Taking his hand, Bea looped her arm around his as they made their way to the Great Hall, joking around to each other as they did. 

They were almost by the door to the garden when they heard the sound of arguing and for a moment, she thought Skye was being harassed by her family again but she was wrong.

She and Jordan exchanged curious glances before making their way to the source of the sound to check if there was something wrong. Imagine their surprise when they found it was Michael arguing with the Duke of Dakota, Franklin. 

Jordan pulled her back before either men could see her and held up a finger to his lips. 

"I thought we've been over this." Michael gritted. "Not everything is about you."

"You can't just join the Selection and come here to threaten my reputation with your very presence, Michael." Duke Franklin replied coldly, a tone Bea wasn't used to hearing from the man that she thought was always so easy-going. "Forfeit your participation and go back to your mother."

"No, you can't just order me like that."

"I'm your Duke and you'll do as I say."

"Right. Perhaps if you're so high and mighty, you'll go tell the princess to send me home herself and explain your reasons why,  _ Your Grace _ ."

Michael's statement rendered the Duke speechless and Bea took that moment to step in before Jordan could stop her.

"Tell the princess what?" She asked, taking them by surprise. Jordan stood behind her sheepishly.

The Duke visibly stiffened. "Y-Your Highness! Have you been there long?"

"Not long enough, which is why I'm asking what's going on, Your Grace." Bea turned to the younger man. "Michael?"

Michael only huffed, looking away. 

"Duke Franklin, why should I send Michael home?" She questioned, training her eyes to the Duke.

"Michael--" The Duke stopped, correcting himself. "Mr. Harrison was being outright unruly and I'm concerned what kind of trouble he might stir in the palace for as long as he stays here."

"Is that all?" She asked warily.

She had known Michael to be a troublemaker when he needed to be. That was not news to anyone. What she didn't understand was why the Duke wanted the representative of his own province to be sent home. Michael had been doing really well in the competition and Bea believed he wouldn't actively do something that could sabotage or put the palace at risk. 

The Duke didn't have a supporting statement to that and their group was left with a long tense silence that didn't help the suspicious feeling she got. 

Finally, Michael threw his hands up in exasperation. "The princess is here. We might as well tell her what the deal is, don't you think?"

"Tell me what?" Bea repeated, getting impatient.

Duke Franklin shook his head slowly. "Harrison…"

"It's not like you're the one who'll get in trouble. Or be sent to the streets."

"Think before saying anything."

Bea turned to Michael, if anything, she felt a growing sense of concern. "Michael, what's going on?"

"I'm Duke Franklin's son." Michael blurted out and the Duke let out a defeated sigh, rubbing his face. "A bastard."

_ A bastard _ . 

Suddenly, everything about Michael made so much sense. The resemblance they share, the animosity that seemed to be always there between him and the Duke, Michael's distaste towards nobles and everything they stood for.

On other hand, it made sense to her why the Duke would want to keep that information from anyone and she was surprised to know Michael grew up this long without any repercussions. To be born a bastard in Solari was a different kind of crime on its own. The government only recognized the legitimate families, meaning, a legally married couple and their children. Anyone born outside a marriage were considered outcasts and would be thrown to the streets as Eights, along with the orphans and the homeless. In some cases, if a bastard was born within the Royal family, the child wouldn't be allowed to live in order to prevent any future civil war or unrest that might threaten the line of succession. 

… And Michael Harrison managed to slip under the law undetected.  _ A half-noble bastard _ .

"All because he couldn't keep it in his pants." The guy grumbled.

"I was young and admittedly stupid." The Duke reasoned.

"Then refused to marry the girl you ended up getting pregnant. How noble of you."

Bea watched the exchange in stunned silence. "How… how did you get to keep this for so long?"

"Your Highness, please…" Duke Franklin held up his hand placatingly. "You can't tell anyone about this."

"My mother's best friend married her and took me in, letting me take his name when my own biological father refused to accept me." Michael explained in a begrudging voice. 

"Michael," Bea looked around to see if anyone heard anything but so far, there were only the four of them. "You understand what will happen if anyone learns about this, right?"

"Of course," he sighed. "I'm thankful to have been saved from that kind of fate but I can't just let him act like he could control me and order me around while I'm here." Michael shot the Duke a dirty look. 

She walked over and took Michael's arm, regarded the Duke. "We'll talk about this some other time, Your Grace. I suggest to take your arguments somewhere private if you wish to prevent any more people from learning this information."

"As you wish, Your Highness," the man sighed heavily and bowed. "Have a pleasant day."

Bea headed to the other way, pulling Michael with her. Jordan nodded at the other guy as they followed her back to the garden where the party was still in full swing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more party in the next installment


	22. Bull's Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains: archery and bad decisions

Stepping out to the party was like walking into a different world. Opposite to the quiet and peaceful atmosphere inside the palace walls. 

By the stage, there was a comedian performing an act as the delighted guests sat surrounding the stage in groups were laughing at his lines. The children who weren't interested in the show were playing tag with some of the teens by the garden maze, careful not to damage any of the plants. 

Bea tried to locate Grace or Skye within the audience but so far, there's mostly adult nobles and some of her grandfather's friends who were no longer active enough to participate with the ongoing activities around the garden. There was the golf, croquet, outdoor bowling and an archery range in the distance. A few guests were riding horses around the garden too and the media people had been taking non-stop pictures and video of everything happening in the party.

"So," Jordan scanned the party. "Where to?"

Before any of them could answer, a familiar pair came running to them looking harried and breathless. Clint skidded to a stop in front of her, fixing his light peach suit as he faced her. "Bea, Brian was challenging everyone in an archery match."

"More like Ajay and Rory," Natalie added. "Only because Ajay said something smart when Brian was talking everyone's ears off about how he excelled in archery and probably the best shooter we have around here."

"Oh boy," Jordan muttered and Michael snickered.

Shaking her head, Bea gestured for the two to lead the way and they all headed to the archery range where a crowd was already gathering and she could hear Brian Crandall's voice even from the distance.

“I trained with the best archer in Lakedon for six years,” he was bragging. “And he said he didn’t know anyone who could out-shoot me. I was the best student he ever had.”

Ajay was standing near where Grace and Skye were seated, sighing heavily and holding a simple-looking bow. Rory was on Brian’s other side, looking a little put-off.

“Ah, the princess is here!” Brian exclaimed once his eyes had traveled over Bea. “We should get started. Nothing like an old-fashioned contest to win the Princess’ favor, right? Unless you’re scared to lose, that is.”

Ajay just rolled his eyes and readied himself to shoot, strapping on an arm-guard and pinning his quiver to his belt. Rory grumbled and grabbed a bow, preparing to shoot left-handed. He shot an angry look at Brian. 

“Do you really think an archery contest is going to impress the princess?” Caleb asked. “Listen, I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re really tired of having to prove ourselves to you. Shouldn’t the point of the Selection be that Bea gets to pick who she likes, so we just have to prove ourselves to her?”

Brian laughed. “Of course,” he said. “It’s all just a game, anyways. What, do you want to challenge me as well?”

“No,” Caleb said firmly. “I’m just saying… if you’re so good at archery like you say you are, why bother having a contest? You’re just trying to embarrass Ajay and Rory because they’re higher in the polls than you are.”

Some of the other Selected cheered when Caleb finished talking, making Brian’s face turn as red as his hair. Rory just continued to look uncomfortable, fumbling with the bow, trying to figure out how to shoot it.

“Let’s just get started,” he growled, and Bea settled down between Grace and Skye to watch the match. She studied Ajay, who looked calm if not a little exasperated, and then Rory, who looked like he would rather have been anywhere but there.

She walked over, attracting the attention of everyone around, and placed her hands over Rory’s on his bow. He looked up.

“You look really uncomfortable,” Bea told him.

“I have no idea how to use this thing. I’m gonna make a complete fool of myself, and then everyone will know that Brian is right and I don’t stand a chance in this competition. That I’m not meant for this life.”

Bea sighed. “Trust me, Rory, no amount of archery is going to make me like Brian. So don’t do this. Let him peacock around on his own, but don’t let him drag you down too.”

Rory looked into Bea’s eyes for a few silent moments, the conflict between his pride and his common sense evident in his expression. But eventually he relaxed, setting the bow down on the grass.

“I forfeit,” he said.

“So you  _ are _ scared,” Brian snarked, but Rory didn’t pay him much attention, just walking towards the rest of the suitors and sitting down with them. He sat next to Caleb, who gave him a smile and a nod.

“Alright, so we need a third competitor,” Bea announced, walking back over to sit down where she’d been. “Any volunteers?”

Complete silence from all the party-goers. 

“Come on, nobody’s man enough to challenge me?” Brian jeered. 

Bea repeated her call. “Anyone?”

Everyone eyed each other anxiously.

“I’ll do it,” said a voice beside Bea, and she turned around in astonishment to see Skye standing up and glaring at her brother, her eyes blazing. Brian visibly wavered, apparently no longer as certain of his victory.

“What… Skye?” Bea said, then touched the girl’s arm. “Are you sure?”

Skye smiled down at Bea, blue eyes like beams. “I rarely miss,” she said.

“Alright, then.” Bea said. Then louder: “We have three competitors, let the match begin!”

The three competitors all set up. Brian was testing his strength with his bowstring, loading his blue-tipped arrows into the bow and pulling the string back. Ajay counted his green arrows, once even weighing one in his hand. Skye strapped on her arm guard and finger guard, picking a smaller bow than either of the two guys had chosen.

Bea couldn’t keep her eyes off Skye. Jordan had come to sit by her, on Grace’s other side, but Bea had hardly noticed. She was fixated on the way the overhead sun was hitting Skye’s hair, the leather straps of the guard over her pale skin, how she was squinting her eyes at the target. The girl was far shorter than either her brother or Ajay, but she held Bea’s attention as if she were fifty feet tall. It didn’t help that she was in all black while both of the guys had on pastel suits.

Then, before Bea could even think about looking away, Skye turned to look at Bea. She noticed the princess staring at her and smiled. Bea couldn’t help but match it, shooting Skye a sunny grin.

Brian kicked off the competition, landing a decent shot in the target. 

“Seven,” the judge announced, and Brian leered at Ajay, ignoring Skye.

“Try to beat that, Bhandari.”

To his credit, Ajay didn’t react other than to load an arrow into his bow, his arrow hitting the target slightly further away than Brian’s, earning him six points.

A rustle of movement beside her told her that Grace had grabbed Jordan’s arm.  _ What’s that all about? _ Bea wondered.  _ Grace must be weirdly invested in archery _ .

But it didn’t matter, because it was Skye’s turn. The girl tucked her hair behind her ears, carefully aiming her arrow right at the middle of the target.

_ That’s my girl, _ Bea thought, when Skye’s arrow landed very close to the middle of the target.

“Nine!” shouted the judge after a very careful inspection of the target. It appeared that Skye had broken the line between nine and ten, so it was hard to tell from far away what the real score was.

Skye grinned, clearly proud of herself, and Bea couldn’t help but think about how adorable that smile was. The audience cheered for Skye’s high score, especially Mia and Sydney. 

It was Brian’s turn again. He brusquely walked towards the target, causing Skye to have to dodge him as he shoved his way past. Ajay shot him a glare, but the guy didn’t notice. He just shot again, his shot far too powerful and uncontrolled, only earning himself five more points. The suitors murmured amongst themselves, and Bea had to bite back a smile.

Ajay must have taken Brian’s poor shot to heart, because he earned seven points with his next shot. The confident smile started to drip off Brian’s lips, and disappeared completely at Skye’s next shot, another nine points almost on the same exact spot as the last one.

Even more angry now, Brian couldn’t manage more than another five points, his arrow half-buried in the target so that it took the judge a few seconds to get it out. Bea raised her eyebrows, making eye contact with Grace, who looked a little anxious.

Ajay stepped up but only scored five points too, looking a little displeased but still outscoring Brian for the first round. Skye stepped up for the last shot of the round, and before Bea was even ready, shot a perfect bullseye.

“Ten!” cried the judge, and Bea got to her feet and clapped along with everyone else. The smile didn’t leave Skye’s face. The final scores for the round were announced, with Skye having outscored Ajay by ten points.

Brian marched up to his sister, apparently changing his strategy by choosing to completely ignore Ajay instead.

“Total after three rounds,” he hissed. Skye kept a stony expression, the beautiful smile having dropped off her face, but didn’t look intimidated. Ajay looked a little less bored now, his eyes flicking between the Crandall siblings, taking a bit of a defensive stance against Brian. But Skye just nodded, agreeing to the terms, and the three separated.

As the competitors prepared for the second round, Bea caught sight of the Crandalls in the audience. They were glaring at Skye, who didn’t seem to have noticed. Bea willed Skye to not turn around, because she knew that if she saw her parents’ expressions then she’d lose some of her nerve.

_ Come on, Skye, _ Bea cheered in her head.  _ You’ve got this. _

“You know what,” said a voice behind Bea, “this is so much better than the comedy show over there. Brian’s being such a clown.”

Clapping her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh, Bea turned around to see Mia talking to Sydney. Grace didn't hold back. The girl let out a loud laugh with Jordan that made the other two girls giggle together in agreement. Even when Brian glared over to their group, Mia wasn't the least bit regretful towards her statement.

The second round started with the leading player to take the first shot. Skye stepped forward, looking so comfortable with the bow and red arrow in hand despite the dozens of audience surrounding the range. Bea had only seen that kind of confidence in Skye a few times so she believed the redhead really knew what she was doing when she volunteered to compete.

Skye lined up her shot and let the arrow fly as the audience watched the game with more interest now. The tip landed right in the middle of the red dot for another bullseye.

"Ten!" the judge called out.

The crowd cheered, Michael whistling loudly to show his support. Bea made sure Skye would hear her voice over the noise from the audience and the redhead turned to grace her with that cute smile that Bea was so fond of. 

"Two consecutive bullseyes," Max commented from the sidelines. "Dude, even I admit that's sick!"

Brian shut the other guy with a glare as Ajay took his turn to the center, scoring a six. Rory and the other suitors clapped for him. Bea heard a chuckle beside her and noticed Grace's hand on Jordan's arm seemed to have tightened more, much to the guy's amusement.

She shook her head, smiling. Even Grace got caught up by the competitive air around them. 

Skye's and Ajay's scores had a mixed effect on Brian's determination to best both of them. The older redhead appeared to have stopped playing around and if possible, his shots are becoming more forceful. Unfortunately, force wasn't enough to land a good score. Brian earned five points, much to his utter disappointment. Most of the suitors were holding back grins, enjoying seeing Brian being knocked down a peg.

Skye took her place in front of the target again, this time earning nine points. The redhead looked weirdly accomplished by it and she wondered if Skye meant to hit a nine, but Bea made sure to whoop even louder, making sure the girl could hear her support. But with her total points so far, she was so far ahead of Ajay and Brian that there was no way she wouldn’t win.

Ajay took his next turn well, and scored eight points. Everyone looked a little surprised, most of all the guy himself. But Bea clapped enthusiastically to show her support, and Grace followed suit, even temporarily releasing Jordan to applaud.

“I think I’ll need a new arm after this,” Jordan muttered in Bea’s ear. “Grace seems really invested in the competition.”

There was some sort of double meaning behind his words, but Bea couldn’t figure it out in the time it took for Ajay to clear the area and Brian to take his position.

Brian was determined this time, instead of angry. He had a hard stare fixed on the target, and pulled back on the string with an unexpected amount of control.

“Eight,” announced the judge, and Bea had to politely applaud. It seemed like Brian had found his groove, and even though Skye was ahead, it didn’t bode well for Ajay.

The competitors took a break to grab some water, the three splitting up and heading to different trays of water.

Bea watched with a sickening feeling as the Duke and Duchess of Lakedon strolled up to Skye, making the girl’s eyes go wide and her competitive spirit fade.

The three exchanged words, sickly sweet smiles pasted on Loretta and Rodger’s faces. From a distance, someone who didn’t know Skye might just think her parents were giving her words of encouragement, or complimenting her for her good shooting. But Bea saw it in the miniscule sag of Skye’s shoulders: they couldn’t have been saying anything good.

But the match restarted before Bea could even think to get up, and halting it just to talk to Skye would look really bad. Instead, Ajay kicked off the round with another six-point shot. Brian followed with a neat eight-point shot, his cockiness slowly coming back.

When Skye walked up to take her shot, her demeanor was completely different from the way she stood in front of everyone on the two previous rounds. 

_ Come on, Skye… _ Bea pleaded in her head, wishing the redhead could hear her.  _ Don't listen to them. _

But even as she thought about it, Bea already knew what Skye would do. She watched with bated breath as the girl took a couple of deep breaths, her spirits no longer have the same competitive vibe and raised her bow.

This time, Skye took a while to release the arrow. It was as if she was debating what to do. Her eyes would glance at the scoreboard every now and then, studying it.

"Look at me," Bea whispered under her breath, willing Skye to look at her.

It was like the redhead heard her words and Skye's calm blue eyes met hers. The girl's next movement was so subtle that anyone could have missed it if Bea hadn't been looking at her intently as Skye shifted her aim a little to the side and released the arrow, embedding itself to the outer black circle signifying the 3-point line.

Bea sighed heavily, not out of disappointment but she wished the Crandalls would just let Skye have her moment just this once. 

The next two turns came out the same way. The Duke and Duchess of Lakedon were watching their daughter like a hawk and applauding loudly when Brian started picking up the pace and sending decent shots. Skye was consistently aiming farther away from the target and it seemed like the crowd were suddenly disappointed by it. Bea heard Mia muttered something to Sydney, probably wondering why Skye suddenly changed her game. The redhead doesn't seem bothered by it, in fact, Skye looked like someone who had already accomplished what she had needed to do. 

It made her wonder. As Bea looked up at the scoreboard to study the points and the way Skye played on the first and second round, it was almost like she intentionally kept Brian on his toes enough to distract him from playing better, giving Ajay a chance to outshoot him. If there's anything Bea noticed about Brian was that the more he gets desperate, the sloppier he plays and it seemed to have worked in Ajay's favor. The game was coming to an end, one more shot to each of the guys and if Ajay managed a higher score than Brian, he would be declared the winner.

Skye watched with satisfaction as her last shot hit a two-pointer circle, removing her arm and finger guards then handing them to a waiting servant along with the bow. Bea waited for her to come back to her seat and exchanged knowing smirks with the redhead now that she understood what really happened.

"Nice game." Bea whispered to the girl. 

Skye let out a deep cleansing breath. "Well, I hope it was enough for Ajay to win."

"That should do it." She assured her.

They turned their attention back to the match. Brian strolled confidently back to the center, as if he was energized by Skye's failed shot. He lined up his arrow and his grin widened as it hit a seven-point. The Crandalls practically glowed with pride. A glow that eventually diminished when Ajay took his turn and it seemed like the time slowed and their surroundings were muted as his arrow sailed in slow motion through the air until it landed on the nine, causing the group of suitors on the side to holler wildly. Jordan yelped on their side and Bea turned in alarm only to see Grace's iron grip on his arm again. 

Skye gave Bea a questioning look. "Is she…?

"Jordan will make it." Bea smiled ruefully, hoping the same.

Both Brian and Ajay stared at the green-tipped arrow on the target board in disbelief before the moment finally sunk into their heads. Ajay scanned all the people watching, meeting Bea's eyes briefly before his gaze landed on Grace's. Bea raised an eyebrow when she noticed the grin on the guy's face widened after that and the suitors all came over to pat him on the back and congratulate him for winning.

Bea averted her stare to Brian, whose face turned red with barely concealed anger, a white-knuckle grip on the bow in his hand that she worried it would snap. Without another word, he stomped away from everyone and almost threw Clint off his feet as he bumped into him. 

Skye nudged her shoulder gently. "I think it's about time you recognize the winner." 

"Right," she nodded, leaving the redhead's side and making her way to Ajay, the suitors bowing at her. "Well, congratulations are in order. Everyone! Let's have a round of applause for the winner of this very sudden, very spontaneous archery match." Bea raised her voice and beamed. She took Ajay's hand and held their hands in the air. "To Sir Ajay!"

"Ajay!" The suitors around them hollered, rowdy.

The crowd gave a round of applause and Bea met Skye's smile as the cheering went on. 

***

  
  


It was a few minutes after ten in the evening when Bea stepped out on the sixth floor foyer. 

Like usual, the hallway was dark despite the number of crystal chandeliers lining up the ceiling but the bright moon above the sky was enough to cast a light through the tall glass windows. 

Bea quickened her steps when she passed the wide staircase in case anyone happens to be passing on the floor below and spots her. Once she made it across, Bea caught a glimpse of red hair by the balcony and a smile was brought to her face.

She wrapped her arms around Skye's waist from behind as she got close, leaning her head on the girl's shoulder and buried her face on Skye's silky hair, inhaling the rosy scent before moving to kiss the redhead on the cheek. "You smell like roses."

"Hey," Skye turned around in her arms to face her, a smile on her lips. "You showed up."

"Yeah, I'm sorry I just got here. Grace took longer to leave my room so I had to wait."

"It's fine." Skye brushed a stray lock of blonde hair from her face to the back of her ear. "You made it, that's what's more important."

Bea narrowed her eyes playfully. "What, you think I'm just going to stand you up and let you wait here all night? Where's the faith?"

"Well," Skye rolled her eyes. "You looked so tired when we headed to dinner earlier so who knows."

"I am kinda tired." She admitted, and a yawn followed her words as if her brain was trying to confirm it. 

The redhead stared at her fondly. "I think we should get you to bed soon or you'll fall asleep right here."

"No," Bea groaned, her head against Skye's shoulder and she buried it further to hide her face. "I don't want to. Besides, I get to spend some time with you here."

"You've had a long day, Bea." Skye pointed out softly. "And you'll have another one tomorrow. You'd be really tired."

She looked up, meeting the gentle blue eyes. "A few more minutes, please?"

Skye rolled her eyes. "Fine. As you wished."

Smiling lazily yet victoriously, Bea leaned forward and pressed her lips on Skye's waiting ones, her hands snaking to the small of Skye's back to pull her closer. The girl held her close too, her dark lips curving into a smile as she responded to the kiss.

Skye turned them around a little and Bea pulled back, brushing Skye's red hair to the back of her ears. There was something dreamy about the moment, a longing sense of feeling and Bea wasn't sure where it was coming from. 

"You really played the game earlier," Bea started after a long comfortable silence. "Don't think I didn't see that."

"Brian is a decent shooter, albeit impatient." Said Skye. "Ajay, on the other hand, was surprisingly good for someone who hadn't trained for these kinds of activities but that won't be good enough to beat Brian. I knew I had to do something to give Ajay a fighting chance."

"You never miss, huh?"

The girl smirked. "Was I wrong?"

"No," Bea shook her head, recalling several instances during the game where Skye intended to aim for the lines in between the score circles, messing with the scorers just a little bit. "I suppose not. Maybe we should have a match one day, see if how you'd fare against me."

"You know I will take you up on that. I don't back down on any challenge." 

"Good." Bea beamed. "I'd like to see how the best shooter of Lakedon would play in an actual game."

Skye raised an eyebrow. "You mean Brian?" 

"We both know that wasn't Brian." 

They laughed and both turned to the usual view of late Angeles night sky in front of them. Skye frowned at something in the distance and Bea followed her gaze. The old chateau sat ominously in the distance, close to the gates, concealed by the trees surrounding its area.

"I noticed that on my first time around here." Skye wondered. "Was anyone staying there?"

"Nope. That was the oldest building around here, where the first Royal family resided before the palace was built." Bea replied. "The last person to stay there was my grandmother. She and my grandfather never got along to the point that she chose to live halfway across the grounds till she died."

"So it's abandoned now?" The redhead asked, looking very interested.

"Yeah, pretty much."

Skye slowly smiled. "Possibly haunted?"

"I'm not sure, I've only been there once or twice." Bea smirked, finding Skye's sudden interest in the abandoned chateau quite amusing. "It's been what, a couple of centuries old so probably? Maybe we should check it out together one time, see if old King Frederick still walks the house."

"You sure about that?" Skye teased. "I think I've seen you get spooked so easily and we're watching an action movie."

"Of course not!" Bea cried defensively. A blush crept to her cheeks as the memory surfaced to her mind and it wasn't because of the movie. That was the day she and Skye were sitting next to each other in the dark theatre and Bea was hyper-aware of the redhead's presence that she jumped every time their arms accidentally touched. 

Skye laughed at the look on her face. Bea wasn't sure if Skye knew why she felt so flustered all of a sudden by the reminder of that time but it was hard for her to be annoyed by the girl when she was laughing like that. 

"Ugh, why is your laugh so adorable?" Bea pouted, cupping the redhead's cheek and it was Skye's turn to flush.

Skye rolled her eyes. "You're changing the subject!" 

"I wasn't, it really is," she insisted, brushing her thumb over the scar on Skye's cheek.

"So you'll give me a tour of your haunted chateau?" Skye asked after a moment, a playful gleam in her dark blue eyes. She leaned her cheek into Bea’s hand.

"Yes, as long as--" Bea yawned as she nodded, making Skye smirk, "--As you stay close to me. I'll be less creeped out if I hold on to you."

"Deal," said the redhead. "Now, come on. Time for bed."

Bea refused to move, pouting a little. "On one condition."

"Which is?"

"Can you go to bed with me?"

Skye blushed a little, turning her face to kiss Bea’s palm. “Of course.”

Bea took Skye’s hand in her own, leading the other girl towards the back of the gallery.

“I know a secret passage to the Queen’s Suite,” Bea explained. “I don’t want anyone looking at you weirdly.”

Skye nodded, then followed Bea down the dark passageway. Bea had to admit that the hallway was a little creepy, dark stone lit by the occasional yellow emergency light installed in the ceiling. The passageway was meant to be used to get away in the event of an attack on the castle.

Bea could hear their footsteps echoing on the stone as they walked, the passage narrowing so that Skye had to walk behind Bea. But Bea didn’t let go of her hand the whole way.

“Won’t Grace find us when she comes to wake you up in the morning?” Skye asked.

“I think tomorrow’s her day off,” Bea said. “But we can set an alarm or something so you wake up before she usually comes, if you’d like.”

Skye said nothing, but squeezed Bea’s hand in response.

It wasn’t long before the pair arrived at Bea’s room, barely distinguishable by a door that slid into the wall with a “1” painted faintly on it. The passage led right behind Bea’s breakfast nook, a seemingly innocent panel in the decorated wall.

Vizmund looked up from where he’d been laying when they walked in. His fluffy tail beat against the floor and he jumped up to meet them, running over to get scratches from Skye. Skye grinned and indulged the floof, crouching down to rub his favorite spot behind his ears.

Bea yawned again as she started preparing for bed, handing Skye a random nightgown from her dresser. Bea stepped into the bathroom to brush her teeth and change into her own nightgown,then knocked quietly on the door to make sure Skye was done changing.

“Aw, you look so cute in my clothes,” Bea cooed when she saw Skye in a very un-Skye-ly white fluffy nightgown.

“You look so cute in your clothes, too,” Skye responded with a cheeky grin.

“Flirt,” Bea accused her. “Come here.”

Bea pulled Skye towards her by the ridiculously long sleeves of the nightgown, making the redhead let out an uncharacteristic giggle. Skye pressed a kiss to Bea’s nose, but Bea yawned again.

“Can you get the lights?”

“Mhm,” Skye hummed, leaning down to switch off the lamps. Bea climbed on the bed and pulled back the comforter, but kneeled on top of the bed, waiting for Skye. When Skye couldn’t figure out one of the lamps, Bea leaned over in an attempt to smoothly turn off the light for her, but another huge yawn made her lose her balance. She tried to grab Skye in order to stay upright, but ended up dragging her down onto the bed as well. Vizmund bolted to his feet, looking panicked briefly, but once he saw that his human was alright he settled back down on his bed.

“Impatient,” Skye said, propping herself up over Bea, who was still giggling from the fall. She brushed the blonde hair out of her face, looking down at her before pressing a single sweet kiss to her lips, probably trying to get her to shush. “Come on, the guards will hear us.”

They slid under the blankets, Bea getting one of her feet tangled in the sheet which caused a lot of panicked sleepy thrashing until Skye helped her get it untangled. Skye pulled the comforter up over her nose, staring at Bea until the girl laughed. Bea pulled the comforter back down.

“Hey,” Bea said, reaching forward to cup Skye’s cheeks in her hands. Being in the dark room under the blankets was magnifying her sleepiness. All she wanted to do was just nuzzle her face on Skye’s neck. 

So she did, dropping a kiss on Skye’s collarbone. The girl wrapped her own arms around Bea’s waist, first hesitant and then stronger, pulling their bodies close together.

“...you’re warm,” Bea mumbled into Skye’s skin, her eyes starting to close.

“Goodnight, Bea,” Skye said softly, stroking Bea’s hair as she held her.

As Bea drifted off, the scent of rose in her brain and the feel of soft lips on her forehead, she didn’t think she’d ever felt as peaceful.

***

"Is this everyone?" Bea asked.

Rory pulled back the chair at the head table for her, ever a gentleman, and she gave him a grateful smile in return as she took the seat and he settled on the one to her right. Vizmund laid down beside Bea’s chair, content and lazy from his noon meal and the exciting walk he’d been on that morning.

The lunch time set up in the dining hall today wasn't the usual formal table setting for them. For one, the King Father and Uncle Stefan weren't even there and so were some of the Selected like Ajay and Brian. As the staff started serving food and setting up plates in front of them, Bea looked at the doors that were all connected to the dining hall, expecting them to walk in any second. She was waiting for Skye too, hoping the redhead would come see her after the busy morning she had. There was a twinge of disappointment in her chest when it was Danielle who stepped through the door, followed by Natalie. The two girls made a beeline for the seat next to Rory, but one glare from Danielle made the other lady back off and sat next to Clint instead. 

"Hello," another voice spoke. Ian strode to the dining hall with an easy grin. "Am I late for lunch?"

"You're just in time," Bea replied. 

Her brother settled all the way across the other head of the table and his butler, Kenny, was quick to set up the plates in front of him and Ian greeted the middle-aged man. "How's it going, Kenny?"

"I'm doing great, Master Ian." The middle-aged butler responded. "How's yours?"

The entire table froze and turned quizzically to Ian. The serving spoon halfway to Rory's plate as he stopped scooping himself some food.

"M-Master Ian?" Rory asked, apparently voicing out everyone's questions.

Danielle snickered along with Bea as she kept on scooping herself some salad. The girl had lived with them for years before staying at their family estate in Paloma for the last year so she knew about it.

Ian looked around at everyone's face and cleared his throat, giving Kenny an embarrassed smile. "Uh, Kenny, what did we say about calling me  _ that _ around people?"

"To not call you as such, Sir," the man replied. "My apologies."

"When we were eight years olds, we met this other kid, an ambassador's child from New Asia." Bea told everyone as they had begun eating. "Ian heard the kid's butler call him  _ young master _ and since then, my brother here insisted Kenny should start calling him  _ Master Ian _ as well."

"Okay, stop," Ian waved her off. "That's… a long time ago."

"Sure, man," Rory laughed and everyone in the table joined in. Even Vizmund looked up, wanting to be part of whatever was going on.

The prince rolled his eyes, pretending to be upset and failing. He shot his butler a dry look. "See what I have to deal with, Kenny? These folks will sell me out for a good laugh."

The servants present in the dining hall appeared to be amused. 

"Alright," Bea smiled. "I think we'd made Ian blush enough. Let's talk about your Polo lessons this morning. How did it go?"

Ian reached for his glass of orange juice and sipped. "Good. Definitely good once Clint learned how to stay atop his horse."

"To be fair, I think she hates me." Clint defended, face flushing red. "She was trying to throw me off."

"Dude, she was way calmer than mine," Mason joined in. 

Danielle nodded. "Rory switched horses with you because the first one looked like he might really throw you off."

"Wait, you switched horses?" Bea looked at Rory, remembering their first horse ride together. "You were so freaked out the last time we went horse-riding. Have you been training?"

"Yeah, I was," Rory confirmed with a smile. "Danielle had been helping me. She was awesome!"

"Is that so?" She raised her eyebrows to her cousin

The other girl smirked. "I had some free time, so of course I was happy to teach you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bea asked, gaining Rory's attention back to her. "I would have been happy to teach you more."

"I know." Rory reached for her hand on the table with a smile and Danielle stared at their hands together, glaring at Bea. "I just… I'm worried I'll get in the way of your duties."

"Nonsense." Bea returned an innocent smile, enjoying the look of utter annoyance on her cousin's face. "I wouldn't mind."

She heard the other suitors chatting with her brother and Bea decided to drop her thing with Danielle and addressed the other boys. As they ate, Rory's hand seemed to always find hers and she couldn't help but try and feel for the spark that he never failed to give her when they held hands before. 

She still felt the same for him. Rory never failed to give her the same flutter in her stomach, or the smile on her face, and for a moment, there was a twinge of guilt that settled inside her chest.

Bea wasn't sure how this would all end, for her and Skye, and for any of her suitors. Looking at Rory right now as he and Ian exchanged playful banter, it wasn't hard to imagine herself being happy on his side someday. Rory would love her with everything he has, she knew that. She would have the same love and happiness her parents had found. He would love their people and he would be willing to support whatever she had in store for them.

She knew she could make that happen. No matter how much her grandfather disapproved of Rory, Bea knew she could fight for him if she'd choose to have him. It was almost too easy.

Still, there was the feeling she got whenever Skye was with her. It was like her heart was swelling up, making her chest tight. She knew she wanted Skye so badly, but that it would be so difficult. Being with Skye would be a lot more complicated than being with Rory.

Plus, Bea had to remind herself, whatever she and Skye had was temporary. Just a fling that she’d have to let go of soon enough. With the Selection, Bea had to think long-term. She had to think about a husband, and in her heart she knew that there were only a few options open for her.

So she was procrastinating ending the Selection. She could easily just choose Rory, or even easier, choose Ajay and avoid the inevitable fight her grandfather would put up about her marrying a Four. God forbid she’d have to marry Brian. Even disregarding his toxic personality and everything about him. It was hard enough to see Skye from time to time and know she couldn’t have her; she couldn’t imagine them being in the same family.

Rory squeezed her hand, and Bea jolted out of her reverie.

“Hey,” he said softly, a gentle and kind look in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

Bea managed a weak smile. “Just stress, mostly about royal stuff.”

Rory stabbed a strawberry with his fork and held it towards Bea’s lips, a silent offer on his face.

"Aw, Rory." Ian cooed, or tried to. It came out in a teasing tone. "Leave the others some fighting chance for my sister's heart."

Natalie let out a giggle.

"You know, Bea's not the only one who could use a strawberry," Danielle piped in. "They're so rare down south that I was actually looking forward to them when I got here."

"Say no more!" Rory turned to her, grabbing her fork and stabbing another strawberry before handing it over to her. "Here you go, my lady!"

Bea couldn't stop her smile from widening from the look of disappointment on her cousin's face when Rory didn't feed her the same way he did to Bea. Danielle’s eyes flicked over to meet Bea’s, and the smallest hint of a scowl crossed her face before she went right back to flirting with Rory.

Bea rolled her eyes. She had to recapture Rory’s attention from her cousin somehow.

“So, Rory,” she asked. “What do you want to do on our date today?”

_ Success _ , Bea thought as Rory turned back to her, his eyes shining and eager.

“Well, I was thinking about the horses,” he said, “and I know there’s a farm or at least some pastures on the palace grounds. Could we go there?”

Beside him, Danielle scoffed. “Please,” she said, “as if the Princess would ever get her fancy dresses dirty in a place like that.”

Privately, Bea agreed with Danielle. She had no interest in going to a farm. However, for Rory…

“That sounds wonderful,” Bea agreed. “I’ll make arrangements immediately.”

Rory’s face lit up, and he dug into his meal with even more gusto than before. Danielle just gaped at her, and Bea knew her victory had been won. She took another bite of her meal triumphantly.

***

Grace peered around the edge of the door. Ajay was right where she’d expected him to be, looking out into the calm afternoon sky.

He seemed peaceful, and Grace almost didn’t want to interrupt him, but some invisible force was pushing her forward.

She’d started to hate the way she felt about him. It was... really unfortunate to say the least. And to say the most? Well...

Grace had had crushes before, but they’d always been completely unobtainable. Payton, for example. And she’d thought Owen unobtainable as well, until he’d noticed her in all the right ways and none of the wrong ones.

But Ajay? It felt like he stood there right outside of her grasp. He always seemed to be happy to see her and talk to her, willing to sit and have a cup of tea and spend an hour or so comfortably in each other’s company. He knew a lot about her— more than almost anyone besides the Williamses. And yet, he still wanted to spend time around her.

It was romantic to have a crush on somebody you could never have. It was a weird feeling, having a crush on someone that you could. If Grace were willing to break the rules just a little, step over the line just a hair—

Ajay turned his head just slightly, but it was enough to catch sight of Grace standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” she said lamely, trying to come up with a reason why she’d just been standing there staring at him. But he didn’t ask.

“Hello,” he said back, relaxing when he saw it was her, and smiling when he saw the tray with two cups of tea on it. “You never cease to amaze me, Grace.”

“…what?” Grace asked, a bit flustered. Her cheeks heated up, and she was grateful that it was dark out.

Instead of answering, Ajay simply picked up one of the mugs and sipped from it. 

“So why are you brooding out here?” Grace asked, setting the tray down and taking her own mug. 

“I like looking at the clouds,” he admitted, a little self-consciously. “And I have a lot on my mind. Looking at the stars helps me forget about everything for a while.”

Grace cocked her head, daring herself to move closer to him. She rested her own elbows right beside his on the balcony.

“A lot of little things,” he said vaguely, understanding her unspoken question. “My brother wrote to me today, and I really miss him. I miss my parents, too, but I don’t miss them fighting all the time.”

Grace hummed sympathetically. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to have parents fighting like that through your entire childhood. Her parents had practically been the poster couple for love, and it only took one look at Greg and Rita to know their bond was everlasting. 

“And being here is confusing,” Ajay continued. “I don’t know if I should tell you this… in fact, I really don’t think I should. But I… find it easy to talk to you.”

“And you do still owe me,” Grace pressed. Upon seeing the confused look on his face, she laughed. “I just mean since you seem to have figured out my secret.”

He smiled again. “I’ve overstepped with you before, Grace,” he said. It was one of the very few times he’d said her name without any kind of prefix, and it made something start fluttering in her stomach.

“You didn’t,” Grace said, causing him to raise his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that you seemed uncomfortable.”

“I was,” Grace admitted. “But not because of you. I wanted to dance with you again, too.”

She chanced a look at Ajay, and saw the strangest expression on his face. It was the beginning of a smile, but not the smirk that she usually saw from him, nor the toothy smile he showed when he was laughing. Something kind of soft. His glasses reflected the sunlight just right, and Grace’s breath was taken away with the breeze that swept across the balcony.

He was stunning, and everything about him drew Grace closer. She barely thought as she scooted even closer, but felt every atom of her skin when he put his hand over hers. 

_ This is stupid, _ her brain screamed at her.  _ This is reckless. You’re going to get in so much trouble, you’ll get your life ruined again, everything you ever wanted thrown into the fire— _

It was hard to think when Ajay was looking at her like that. He edged closer to her, his hand still covering hers. Grace started to panic a little.

“I liked how your hair looked that night,” he said, almost as an afterthought. “It looks really good when you wear it down. I wish you’d wear it like that more often.”

Grace blinked. She’d never really given that much thought to her hair before.

“I-- really?” she asked. “It’s just that nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

“You do usually have your hair up,” Ajay pointed out. “I guess I just noticed how nice it looked down.”

Grace smiled, now hyper-aware of her hair in a way that she’d never really been before. And then the feeling spread, and Grace felt a sort of spark run straight to her heart from where Ajay’s hand touched hers. He was even closer to her than he had been before, and Grace didn’t think she’d be able to continue to breathe properly if he stayed there.

_ Are we about to kiss? _ she wondered. That was a bad idea, such a terrible idea on so many levels, but she still looked up at him.

The way he was looking at her... it was like nothing else she’d ever experienced. He looked at her as if she was a princess, that soft smile back on his face, even a small hint of a flush on his cheeks. 

Grace didn’t have the strength to stop herself. She leaned forward too, tilting up to her toes. Ajay looked confused for a second, and Grace started panicking again, but then he set his mug down and moved his hand towards her waist, leaning down.

Just as Grace was closing her eyes, surrendering herself to whatever was going to happen next, an explosion sounded nearby and the entire palace seemed to have shaken as the world shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome for the cliffhanger ;)


	23. I Won't Let You Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which lots of falling is involved, but only a little of the actual physical falling.
> 
> AKA: a new attack on the castle leaves tensions high. it's a test of strength to see who is able to make it through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is my guilty pleasure. lots of angst ahead, but also lots of happiness too! all in all one of our fave chapters to write. we hope you enjoy!!

Vizmund’s ears pricked up, and after a second, he was on his feet. Bea shushed him before he barked, but she could tell he was definitely on edge.

She had to strain to hear, but she could make out yelling coming from outside. Men’s voices, none that she recognized, and the yelling got louder by the second. 

Ian stood up, attuned to Bea’s uneasiness, and soon everyone else had looked up from their lunches as well. Bea stood after, and rushed with Ian outside the hallway to see what was going on.

Just as Bea got outside the dining hall, a shot rang out from the other side of the palace. It was a lot further away, but there was no way Bea could mistake it for anything other than a gunshot. She turned to look at Ian, and saw her own fear and alarm mirrored in her twin’s eyes.

A bunch of nobles fled the hallway past them, bumping against her and Ian in their rush to get to safety. Jordan was on her side in a second with Caleb and Michael in tow.

"The rebels are back?" Caleb asked. 

As an answer to his question, a series of firing sounded outside and they all leaned over the balcony in time to see a group of the Royal Army falling as bullets hit their bodies. A couple of men in dark gears spotted them and Bea covered her mouth with her hands to stifle a scream as she felt Ian's arms over her shoulder to pull her away in time for the bullets to come whizzing at them from below. They all ducked, arms over their heads until the rebels stopped firing in their direction followed by shouts of orders. Natalie cried out in fear and Clint was mumbling words under his breath as if praying. Bea wasn't even a bit bothered that Danielle stuck on Rory's side as the guy held a protective arm around her cousin.

"Come on!" Ian yelled to the others in the dining hall, his posture shifting into that of a soldier's. 

The hallway was soon swarmed by them and they slowly made their way to the next hall as discreetly as they could, the first group of rebels showed up. "They're here!"

Ian leaped into action, tackling the one leading them to the ground and the man simultaneously started firing, hitting some of his fellow rebels with stray bullets while Bea and the others ducked to the floor away from his line of fire. Michael joined in as the other men turned to Ian and soon, the other suitors had jumped into the fray with the exception of Clint, Aiden and Jordan, who stayed within her side holding his fist up. 

It was a couple minutes later and more and more rebels arrived but as Ian and the suitors managed to put down the first group, half a dozen of the royal army came running to their sides. 

"About time!" Max growled at the soldiers, his lip bleeding and splatters of blood all over his vest.

"To the safe room!" Ian ordered over the sound of screaming in the air. Her brother had a rifle in his arms, one that he must have obtained from one of the men they just put down. 

Bea was urged forward by Jordan as their group moved ahead. The guy kept her to his side, holding a fire poker in his hands. 

"Bea, stay with me!" Her brother called, rushing to her side and forgetting the fight for a second that he didn't notice a man was coming for him.

Her eyes widened. "Watch out!"

Ian turned in time to see a knife zipped towards them and embedded itself on the rebel's back. Her brother stumbled on shock, jumping away from the man's body as it collapsed forward to them. They looked over to see where it came from and found Erin across the room, hand held out like she just threw something.

"Whoa." Ian blinked and gave the other girl a grateful look before resuming his stance.

"I don't know how to use this!" Michael called, holding up the rifle he got.

Her brother nodded a permission to one of the soldiers without breaking his focus from firing at the rebels they came across. The soldier rushed to Michael's side, whispering instructions as to how to use the rifle as quickly as he could.

"Vizmund!" Bea cried and the dog scurried to her side, his ears down and agitated from all the harsh noises around them.

"Your Highness!" Frank and a few of his men came running to them. "The passageways to the safe rooms were blocked!"

"What?" Ian turned. "It's too dangerous if we run downstairs in the open!"

The General scanned their group from the suitors, the two girls with them and finally to Bea. He nodded grimly. "It's the only way! My men are trying to remove the debris at the moment but they had to fight their way!"

"We're wasting time out here!" Bea spoke. 

Her brother let out a curse as they met more rebels to the next hall. The sound of gunfire was almost deafening around them, threatening to pull Bea into the past.

_ The man raised his gun and shot the king in the chest. Before the king's guards could act, bullets started raining all around them. _

_ "Dad!" She screamed, but her voice was muffled as Leon pulled her down to the floor and shielded her from the bullets using his own body. _

Their group were pressed closer as the soldiers, Ian and some of the suitors fought the men around them. Bea pressed her hands against her ears, her heart pounding in her chest as she fought the memories inside her head. Her chest felt like closing up, preventing the air from coming in. The smell of gunpowder and smoke and dust adding as triggers to the flashes inside her head.

"Bea, what--" Rory reached out for her. "What's wrong?"

Bea pressed a hand to her chest as she gulped for air. She felt paralyzed, unable to move as the past continued its onslaught on her consciousness.

_ "You don't rule us," the man from earlier said. He took off his military cap and tossed it aside, spitting after it.  _

_ King Alan managed to get up despite the pain, taking deep shaky breaths. "L-Let them go, they… they have nothing to do with this." _

_ "Do we look like we're here to follow your orders, huh?" The man shouted in fury, shooting the king once more, this time in the knee. The king roared in pain, collapsing on his own pool of blood but he didn't give up. "Your entire family is involved in this as much as you. What makes you think we're here to spare any of you?" _

_ Another shot stirred the princess from being knocked out during the firing. She tried to move, but a hot searing pain flared over her shoulder and she cried out, alerting the other men. Dozens of guns pointed at her and the body lying on top of her. _

A hand gripped Bea’s shoulder, and she twisted around, wanting to scream but gritting her teeth so that she didn’t. He wasn’t here. That man couldn’t possibly still be here. What did he want with her? Hadn’t he already taken away everything she loved?

“Get away from me!” she shrieked, dodging the man so that he lost his grip on her shoulder. And then she turned around to confront him and was met with her own twin’s expression, terrified but not about the attack.

He knew her too well. “It’s not them,” he said. “He's not here.”

_ Focus, goddammit, _ Bea told herself, but no matter how many times she blinked, she swore she could still see her father bleeding out on the floor. Her brother, his body shielding hers, his life gone in an instant just to protect her.

Both of Ian’s hands pressed into Bea’s shoulders, forcing her to make eye contact with him.

“It’s not real,” he was saying, but Bea couldn’t make sense of the words. Everything was screaming and gunshots and blood and dying breaths and--

_ "I love you, honey," The Queen mouthed at her one last time. _

_ "No, no-- stop--" King Alan weeped. He fell back to the floor as he tried harder than ever to get to his feet. "F-Faith, love, close your eyes… we will b-be alright…" _

_ No one listened, Beatrice could barely hear her own voice, the sound of her screams felt empty and void as one of the men holding their mother pulled out a long knife and stabbed the Queen from the back. The knife went through to her chest and the last drops of tears rolled down her cheeks before they discarded the Queen's lifeless body aside. _

“Hey! Now’s not the time. Snap out of it!” shouted a voice right near Bea’s ear. 

“That’s not helping, Danielle,” came Ian’s voice, exasperated but exactly as tense as hers. 

“I’m just-- she’s not moving, we need to get out of here!” Danielle’s voice was tinged with a little desperation. Maybe just wanting to save her own skin, but… could she possibly care? Bea couldn’t think about that for more than a moment before her brain pulled her back into the darkness.

_ "Please! Stop!" She begged, almost hysterically. "Dad!" _

_ At that point, she was just waiting for her turn and was more than ready to join her parents. Her ears had been ringing from all the gunfire around them, her whole body went numb as she watched both of them lay side-by side on the floor. _

_ "God save the new Queen," the man said once more. Bea met his eyes and a wave of anger flooded in her chest. He was smiling humorlessly and she realized he was talking about her. He gave her a mocking bow. "Not that you're gonna live long enough, Your Majesty."  _

_ He walked closer, pointing his gun at her and Beatrice closed her eyes, waiting. _

“Bea!” came another voice, and Bea’s eyes popped open.

A flash of red hair crossed her vision and then Skye was there, clearly visible against a wall across the hall. Bea’s heart lifted: a momentary relief.

“ _ Skye _ ,” she whispered to herself.  _ She _ 's here. “Skye!”

Ian held his arm out, pushing Bea back. She hadn’t even noticed that she was trying to walk towards Skye. A group of guards ran with Skye, heading to their direction.

“We need to fall back,” Ian said to everyone, pushing Bea back even more. “Come on, if we run we can make it to the safe room.”

Just as Ian’s mouth had finished moving, a huge blast sounded from the wall as Skye and her guards passed, chunks of it falling down on them as smoke and dust shooting into the hallway along with rocks and debris. The fighting stopped for a moment while everyone regrouped, examining the ground and the air as the dust made it impossible to see. The people closest to the explosion vanished under the rubble.

Ian was pulling on Bea’s arm, trying to get her to take advantage of the reduced visibility, but she pulled back, just trying to get back to where Skye had been.

“SKYE!” she screamed, not able to spot her red hair anywhere. “SKYE!”

***

The explosion sent Grace staggering backwards, looking around wildly to find the source of the sound. Ajay had jumped, but was remaining in the same place, his eyes wide and focused on a far window, where the glass had shattered and flames were now shooting out.

“What the  _ hell? _ ” he whispered. He turned to Grace, looking bewildered, and the gravity of the situation finally sank in. Another attack, and she and Ajay were probably the most vulnerable, being in a room that does not have access to any of the safe rooms all by themselves.

“Okay,” Grace said, trying to think things through. “There’s a safe room not far from here, down the second-floor hallway. We need to try and get there.”

Ajay nodded, casting his eyes around the balcony. He wrung his hands together, then froze when he opened the door a little and peeked down the hall.

Startled, Grace followed his line of sight, and saw an army of rebels rushing down the lower floors. It didn’t look like they had seen Ajay and Grace yet, but Grace still reached over and pulled Ajay out of sight.

“What do we do?” he whispered frantically, going back to wringing his hands. 

“We sneak around,” Grace whispered back. “We can’t possibly fight that many mercenaries.”

“I agree but… there’s so many of them. If even one of them saw us--”

Grace turned to where she’d set the tray and the teapot. “Okay,” she whispered, “you take the teapot, I’ll take the tray. If someone tries to attack us, pour the hot water on them and I’ll try and knock them out.”

“Really?” Ajay asked skeptically.

“No, I don't know. I'm trying to think!”

Ajay thought for a minute as well before the sound of gunshots rang in the hallway outside. "Alright, we have to go before they start going to the rooms."

Grace nodded, a bit surprised when Ajay took her hand and headed to the door, slowly twisting the knob and opening it just a little to peek outside again. Their breaths hitched when a group of men ran past, closing it quickly. 

"Grace," Ajay whispered and stopped when realize they were standing too close. He cleared his throat before continuing. "Do we know where we're going? Like if we make it out?" 

Grace started to make a mental list of all the safe rooms she knew would be close by. She'd only ever been in that one near the kitchens since it was always the one near her. Today though, they couldn't run all the way down to the kitchen without being intercepted by rebels so she had to cross that one out, no matter how much she wanted to be with Greg and Rita during these times. The first floor would be swarming with rebels too so the ones there would be a no, it will be the center of most blood baths so she wouldn't dare suggest to go down. Maybe if they'd stay low and quick enough, they could make it on the second floor… then an idea struck her. 

"The west wing!" Grace almost screamed it out before she remembered they should be quiet. "There was a secret passage there, I-- I think I'll recognize it if we could get there?"

"Right. I'll trust you know where you're going." Ajay nodded, as if trying to convince himself either. He turned to Grace. "Ready?"

Her hand trembled against his. "I don't know, am I?" 

He took a deep shaky breath. "We make a run for it. No looking back. On the count of three? One…"

"Two…" her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest. 

"Three." Ajay finished as he opened the door once more and they came face to face with one of them. 

There was a beat of silence as the three of them stood frozen on their spots, then the man scrambled to take the rifle slung over his shoulder just as Ajay and Grace immediately shut the door as fast as they could. 

Grace scrambled to use one of the chairs to barricade the door shut, while Ajay held it shut even though the rebel was trying to push through it.

“Get the table!” he said, and Grace abandoned her efforts of dragging a chair to the door in favor of hauling the larger breakfast table over. She could hear muffled yelling and knew the rebel must have been calling others over.

“We need to get out of here,” Grace said. “Let me think. Um. So we can’t go that way, but… what if…” She started pacing, unable to think clearly anymore.

Ajay peered over the side of the balcony. “I hate to suggest this, but… we could always try to get over to the other balcony and go out that way. The room leads to another hallway.”

Grace glanced over at Ajay, then at the gap between the two balconies. “Um.”

“No, see, there’s a ledge there,” Ajay said, pointing to where a narrow piece of trim connected the balconies. “I know it can bear weight.”

“You know--?” Grace stared skeptically at the ledge. 

The rebel’s pounding on the door suddenly resumed, making Ajay and Grace jump, but the table didn’t budge.

“It’s cement,” Ajay explained. “And once, Noah was smoking out there and used the ledge to cross over and offer me a cigarette.”

“He  _ what _ ?”

“I didn’t  _ take  _ the cigarette,” Ajay defended himself. 

“Wait, so that’s Noah’s room?” Grace asked. “I didn’t know you could use the ledge to cross.”

“I didn’t either until he did,” Ajay said.

Another slam on the door made the table move a little, the loud screeching sound somehow bringing them back to being focused.

“It’s our only chance, we have to try,” Ajay urged. “Come on, let’s go.”

Grace balked, staring at the ground below the balcony. It was so far down. 

“If I fell off, I’d die. It’s so narrow and so high up… I don’t know.”

“You know I won’t let you fall, Grace.”

Ajay took her hand again and pulled her over to the edge of the balcony, starting to climb over it himself. Grace’s heart pounded, praying that he wouldn’t fall. She knew it was their only chance of getting away, but still… it was  _ so _ high up.

Feet planted firmly on the trim, Ajay carefully turned, gripping the cracks in the stone wall to help keep his balance. He held one hand out to Grace.

“Come on,” he repeated. “We have to go.” As if to prove Ajay’s point, another slam at the door pushed the heavy table a little more.

Grace shook her head frantically, her mind playing and replaying scenarios where she or Ajay fell off the trim, hitting the ground below. “I can’t do that. I just can’t.”

“It’s only six feet apart,” Ajay coaxed her. “I could reach over and grab the other balcony right now. You won’t fall.”

“You can’t promise that,” Grace pointed out. “What if the balcony falls? Who knows how old this place is? The cement might break off beneath my feet.”

Ajay’s hand took hers, pulling her forward insistently as the pounding on the door grew louder. Grace grit her teeth, summoning up all her nerve, and carefully climbed over the balcony.

Ajay backed toward the other side, one of his hands still gripping the side of the wall, and hooked one foot around the iron bars on the edge of the other balcony.

“See? It’s not that far,” he said, trying to be encouraging. Grace appreciated it, but every cell in her body was telling her that being so high up and not standing on solid ground was fundamentally wrong. She tried her hardest not to wobble, clenching all her muscles in an effort to not move.

“Okay,” Ajay said, “I’m gonna climb over now. Hold onto the wall, I promise you won’t fall.”

_ You can’t promise that, _ Grace wanted to repeat again, but she couldn’t make herself say the words. It took all of her effort to unfreeze just enough to nod.

She watched as Ajay painstakingly climbed over the fence, settling himself on the other side fairly quickly. He leaned back over the fence, though, both hands reaching out to Grace. And she couldn’t make herself move to take them. Doing anything other than maintaining her death grip on the wall seemed like a very bad idea.

“Grace,” he said again, his voice tinged with a bit of panic. “I promise, you won’t fall, but you have to try and get over the balcony now. The rebels are getting through.”

Sure enough, as soon as he finished saying that, the table moved away from the door enough to let one of the men through. The rebel immediately spotted Grace and Ajay, shouting to the other soldiers and then running across the balcony.

It was sheer panic, nothing else, that made Grace propel herself over the fence. She launched herself straight into Ajay’s arms, toppling them both onto the floor of the other balcony.

“Ugh,” Ajay groaned, patting around on the ground to try to find his glasses that had flown off when they’d fallen. They were cracked. “I’d say good job, but…”

“Okay,” Grace said, climbing off of Ajay to open the balcony doors. “Let’s go, we don’t have time to fix your glasses.”

The rebel soldier was already making his way over the balcony, and Grace knew it would just be seconds until he made the cross.

“I can’t  _ see _ without them,” Ajay complained, finally grabbing them and shoving them back on his face. Only then did he let himself be dragged along when Grace grabbed his hand, pulling them both through the balcony doors. She took a few seconds to close and lock the doors and pushed a dresser against them, but then as soon as the rebel’s yells were heard on the balcony they’d just evacuated, they ran through the room. Ajay pulled blankets off the bed and books off the shelves as they passed, hopefully blocking the path to slow their pursuit.

They didn’t have time to check before they flung open the door to the hallway, so it was good that it was entirely empty. Aside from a few smashed pots and torn-up paintings, there was no evidence of rebels. Grace led their charge down the hall, scanning the walls for the small divot she knew indicated a secret door in the paneling. 

Ajay was a bit slower, whether it was because of his lack of athleticism or if it was because his glasses were a little dirty from being on the ground. Ahead by a fair bit, Grace finally saw a door and ran to it, turning back briefly when she heard Ajay say something that she couldn’t quite hear.

"Run!" Ajay said through gritted teeth before a rebel soldier wrestled Ajay into a chokehold, his arms pinned behind his back. "Run, Grace!"

"Ajay!" Grace cried.  _ Run? There’s no way I’m leaving him _ .

Unfortunately, her cry had caught the soldier’s attention, and he scowled at her, unable to move because Ajay was doing his best to fight against the chokehold. 

Thinking fast, Grace dashed around the soldier, faster than he could turn to react with Ajay blocking his every move. She jumped on his back, digging her knees into his back and grabbing at his face.

The man howled and tried to shake Grace off, finally losing his grip on Ajay. Ajay pulled himself out of the man’s hold, then clocked a neat, calculated punch to the guy’s stomach.

“Oh, fuck you,” the soldier gasped, hunched over. He threw Grace off his back, and she hit the floor hard a few feet away. She felt her ankle crumple under her as she hit the ground, and even though the shock of pain was unbearable for a second, she barely noticed it.

The man hurled a punch at Ajay, but Ajay dodged enough that the man’s fist barely grazed his jaw. Grace winced, but Ajay recovered quickly and ran at the man.

Instead of trying to attack him, which would spell certain death because the guy was so much bigger, Ajay baited the soldier to chase him. The man was barreling too fast to Ajay that when he jumped out of the way on the last second, he slammed against the center table in the foyer, taking down the entire furniture with him and the flower arrangements on top spilled all over the floor.

"Let's go!" Ajay scrambled to stand, thinking the man was down for good, but he barely managed to get up when he felt an iron grip on his ankle and he was dragged to the floor as well.

They grappled on top of the scattered soil and flowers. Ajay grabbed a fistful of soil and rubbed it all over the man's face, making him grunt.

"You… little… bastard," he roared, in return, he slammed Ajay's face against the mess on the floor. Ajay cried out in pain, feeling the rough texture of the soil rubbing painfully to his face.

Grace tried to stand up. The soldier was just out of her reach, and she knew she could punch him or kick him or something instead of leaving Ajay to fight him off alone, but as soon as she tried to put weight on her foot she fell again, pain radiating through her leg. She screwed up her face and stood anyways, the adrenaline letting her fight the pain to do what she needed to do.

She reached out for the vase close to her and hobbled to where the two had been fighting. Grace held the vase over them in time for the man to turn and she slammed it as hard as she could down to his head, the vase shattering into a million pieces along with the satisfying crack of his head. The man fell on top of Ajay and Grace felt an excruciating pain on her ankle and collapsed. 

"Grace!" Ajay pushed the man's body aside, crawling over to where she fell. 

"Watch out!" Grace warned.

The man, turned out, was still awake and tried to reach for his rifle but Ajay snatched it before he could, using his own momentum to hit the guy’s head with it before darting out of range.

The man fell, and Grace inspected him from her place on the ground. His eyes were rolled back in his head, but he was still breathing.

“I think he’s out cold,” she announced, and Ajay poked him with the end of the rifle.

“Damn,” was all he said, examining the rifle once he’d determined the guy was indeed knocked out. “I think I’m gonna keep this around in case we see anyone else. I don’t know how to shoot it, but maybe we could use it like a bat.”

Grace nodded. “Good idea. But we should definitely get going before anyone else comes looking for him.”

Ajay offered his hand to Grace and she took it, momentarily forgetting about her ankle in the wake of their victory. But putting weight on it made the pain unbearable, causing her to collapse back onto the floor. Ajay knelt down when she fell, a concerned expression on his face.

“Are you okay?”

“I think I hurt my ankle when he threw me,” Grace explained, her voice choked up a little from the pain. “It’s not a big deal.”

“But you can’t walk,” Ajay realized. “Okay. How much further is the safe room?”

Grace pointed to the end of the hall, a good fifty feet away.

Ajay bit his lip, examining the distance. “I think I can carry you that far.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Grace asked.

“Only if that’s okay,” he replied.

“I mean, yeah, of course,” Grace said, starting to stutter a little. Clearly her adrenaline was starting to wear off and she was turning back into a dork.

Ajay frowned at her for a while, but then shifted her arms and legs, hooking one arm under her knees and the other under her arms to pick her up bridal style. Grace could feel herself turning red, even though she knew he was just doing what had to be done for them to get to the safe room.

“Hey,” she said as he walked towards the divot she pointed to, clearly struggling with carrying her. “Thanks. You really didn’t have to do this, you could’ve just gotten away on your own.”

Ajay looked down at her, confused. “Of course, Grace. I wasn’t going to just leave you there after you got injured helping me.”

“Oh, good point,” Grace realized. She shook her head. _Why am I acting so stupid?_ _It must be the pain getting to my head._

Ajay reached the halfway mark to the safe room without incident, but soon after, his arms started shaking. Grace snorted a little, not able to help herself.

“What?” Ajay asked, sounding a little offended.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to carry me very long,” she replied. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Ajay just rolled his eyes, but looking up at him, Grace saw a little satisfied smirk cross his face.

***

The way to the safe room was a blur in Bea's part considering she was lost in the midst of an episode of a panic attack triggered by all the violence and bloodshed around them as well as the fact that she just witnessed an explosion that may or may not have taken Skye away from her.

The doors shut behind them as soon as everyone rushed into safety. Inside, there were already a bunch of people. Some of the court ladies, Rodger and Loretta Crandall and their grandfather sat around together on a table over glasses of wine, sipping calmly as they waited for the attack to end.

Bea, on the other hand, couldn't calm the living hell inside of her. "W-We have to go b-back…" she cried on Ian's shoulder. "Ian, I have t-to-- to check if she's okay!"

"Bea," he held her back as she pushed back towards the door. "Bea, you can't go back!"

"I have to get her!"

"Jeez." Danielle shook her head, exasperated, and went over to the refreshments table to grab herself a whole bottle of wine before sitting on one of the beds, drinking straight from the bottle.

"What's going on?" The King Father stood, noting her distress. His frown was enough to send the suitors off to find somewhere to sit, even Rory, who looked on Bea with so much worry.

"Lady Skye, she…" Ian glanced briefly at the couple with them, who had been watching the scene with those uncaring faces. "She got caught up in an explosion."

"We have to go see if she's okay!" Bea insisted. 

"What?" Lady Crandall gasped.

Duke Crandall set his glass down, a small frown crossed his features. "Our son sent a guard to assure us he made it to one of the saferooms just fine. We'd thought she'd be with him."

"We already sent some people to look for her." Ian said, not looking as optimistic which only added to the dread that was threatening to consume Bea. 

The explosion kept on playing inside her head. She couldn't forget the look of utter relief on Skye's worried face when their eyes met for a second only for it to be wiped off completely from them. The thought made her heart sink further and the beat spike at the same time. The suffocating feeling was back again that she had to shut her eyes and focus on her breathing.

"Is this one of those times again?" She heard her grandfather whisper warily.

Whether Ian responded or not, she didn't get to hear it. She simply felt his hand on her back as he guided her on one of the beds and a warm hand settled on her arm.

"Hey, it will be okay," Rory whispered softly. 

Bea leaned her head on his shoulder, taking what little comfort his arms could offer her even if she knew she wouldn't feel like breathing until she made sure Skye was safe and sound.

Rory's hand ran up and down her shoulder as she felt the weight of everyone's eyes in the safe room on her, trying to figure out what's wrong with her. To her relief, Ian blocked their gazes and sat beside her.

Maria appeared beside them. "Your Highness, how can I help?"

"There's, uh, there's an emergency kit by the shelf." Ian pointed vaguely at the shelf on their wall. "We keep some of her medicines in the box. And a glass of water, please."

The girl rushed to get what he asked her to and her brother turned back to her, his green eyes imploring her to look into them. He whispered. "Bea, breathe with me, okay? Like we always do."

Bea took a deep shaky breath and met her brother's eyes, nodding. Ian returned an encouraging nod and she closed her eyes, straightening her back and taking her brother's hands as she focused on the way she was breathing.

The crushing feeling in her chest was making it hard to focus, much less calm down. She had been feeling light headed and her brother had to squeeze her hand to stop them from shaking so much. Taking that as her cue, Bea inhaled deeply, letting the air settle in her belly and held it in.

"One, two, three, four, five…" Ian counted under his breath, doing the same. They released the air through their mouths at the same time. "You're doing great." He assured her. "Now we do it for a few minutes."

She nodded, repeating the technique along with her brother a few more times as she felt her breathing slowly return to normal and her muscles relaxed just a little bit. Her heart beat remained beating fast but she knew she'd still need to take her medicine to fully calm her nerves. 

Once they were done, Bea opened her eyes and found her brother smiling at her before letting go of her hands. Maria handed the pill bottle to her and the glass of water to Ian while Bea swallowed the pills. 

"Thanks," she whispered, drinking the water then handing the glass back to the other girl.

Rory leaned over. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, I… I think so," she nodded. Bea leaned back on the guy's shoulder and Rory was more than happy for it. "I'm still worried about Skye. I… I want to--"

"Shhh…" Ian cut her off. "Rest your mind, Bea. It will be over soon and we'll look for her."

She could only nod weakly, biting her lip as she fumbled with her hands. Vizmund came over and rested his head on her lap, his ears drooping as if he could feel the same dread she had been feeling for Skye.

Bea reached out slowly, running her fingers through his white fur and the dog closed his eyes. Every once in a while, they'd jump from a particularly loud explosion and Rory's hand would squeeze hers. He stayed by her side even when she wasn't even feeling like herself. The medicines began to take effect and her eyes suddenly felt so heavy. Before she knew it, Bea started to doze off on Rory's shoulder and the attack slipped off her mind.

  
  


***

As much as Grace wrapped her arms around herself to try and force herself to keep calm, every explosion or gunshot made her jump. And every time she jumped or shivered, her ankle throbbed again. Ajay had made her sit on the small bed in the safe room with her foot propped up on the pillow, but she couldn’t quite take her mind off the pain. 

Ajay himself was sitting on the floor of the room, his eyes wandering around. Grace could see small cuts on his face, remnants from the fight with the rebel, and a bruise was quickly forming on his jaw. Ajay’s gaze wandered back over to Grace, scanning her ankle.

“That looks really bad,” he pointed out. “You could definitely use some ice, it’s swelling up a lot.”

“It’s cold enough in this damn room,” Grace grumbled. “Your jaw doesn’t look so good, either. Does it hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted. “I was lucky that he mostly missed, otherwise he might have broken my jaw.” He rubbed the bruise and grimaced.

Grace fell silent again, and another blast sounded from across the palace. She winced, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Ajay.

“Worried about Bea?”

Grace shook her head. “I mean, of course I am, but she has the best soldiers… I’m mostly worried for Rita and Greg. I hope they got somewhere safe.”

“They’re like parents to you,” Ajay nodded. “It makes sense that you’d be worried for them. I’m sure they’re just as worried for you.”

Grace wrapped her arms even tighter around herself, looking down at her ankle to try to ground herself. It had swollen, a bump about the size of an orange on the side of her foot. Her entire foot and half of her calf was black and purple with bruises.

“I guess I’m lucky that my family isn’t anywhere nearby,” Ajay continued. “As much as I miss my mom and my brother, I wouldn’t want them to have to go through this.”

“Welcome to Angeles. Come for the sunshine, stay because you’re trapped in a rebel attack,” Grace tried to joke, but it just came out sounding sad. 

Ajay didn’t respond, just took off his glasses to clean them. He frowned at the lenses for a while, examining them front and back.

“They’re broken,” he concluded. "Again."

“Sorry,” Grace mumbled. It was definitely her fault for taking so long to cross the trim. “If it makes you feel any better, you look really good without them.”

Ajay raised an eyebrow, which just didn’t have the same effect without his glasses on. Grace had to giggle, which in turn made Ajay smile a little.

Carefully, Ajay stood up and walked over to where Grace was seated, sitting by her side. Grace took the opportunity to examine his face close up, even as his proximity made her heart pound.

“God, you have a baby face,” Grace giggled. It wasn’t as clear with his glasses on, because they made him look more serious, but he looked a lot younger without them.

Ajay just rolled his eyes. “Insulting the guy you’re sharing a safe room with? Smart.”

Grace stuck out her tongue. The fact that he was so close made her want to giggle uncontrollably. It was like she couldn’t breathe correctly. 

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck in here?”

Grace thought for a minute. “The longest I’ve ever been stuck in a safe room was when the King and Queen were murdered. There was so much chaos that they didn’t get around to unlocking all the safe rooms for a few days.”

Ajay shook his head. “I can’t imagine how that must have felt. Coming out of a silent, dark room after a full day just to find that the entire world has been turned upside down.”

“It wasn’t my first time having that feeling,” Grace admitted, “but that didn’t make it any easier.”

A flurry of gunshots rang through the hall, making both of them jump. The rebels were clearly getting closer.

“Do you think they’ll find us?” Ajay wondered.

“I doubt it. I could hardly see the entrance to the safe room, I don’t think they’ll be able to find it. And anyways, it’s not us they’re looking for.”

“I get the feeling that wouldn’t matter. They’d kill us all the same.”

Grace shivered, her ankle throbbing again. A sick feeling spread through her chest, thinking about who might have been hit by those bullets.

“Don’t think about it,” Ajay said. “I know what you’re thinking, and try not to think about it. You’re doing what you’re supposed to do by keeping yourself safe.”

“It doesn’t feel very good,” Grace complained, turning her head to rest it on Ajay’s shoulder. He inhaled sharply, but then wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Another explosion rocked the palace, and Ajay held Grace tighter. Maybe it was how protective he was acting, or just the proximity of his body, but some kind of wall broke in Grace’s mind and she just started shaking.

_ What if the rebels find us? _ she couldn’t help but wonder.  _ What if I have to watch Ajay get hurt? What if Greg and Rita get killed? Is Bea safe? _

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ajay whispered, stroking her hair. “Greg and Rita are safe, so is Bea. And I promise I won’t let anything happen to you here.”

The feeling wouldn’t go away as the sounds got closer. Ajay briefly let go of Grace to go scoot the small table in front of the door to the safe room, but then walked back over and knelt by Grace’s ankle, carefully pressing his fingers on her swollen foot. She winced, resisting the urge to jerk her foot away.

“It still hurts?”

Grace nodded.

Ajay sighed. “I’m sure the stress isn’t helping. I wish we both had some ice.”

Grace reached over to run her fingers over the bruise on his jaw, and he turned his head to look up at her. 

_ God, his eyes are beautiful _ , Grace couldn’t help but think. She leaned down, with the excuse of examining the bruise closer. Being that close to him was insanely distracting, though, especially once he propped his elbows up on the mattress very close to her.

It was almost like she couldn’t control herself. Her eyes searched his, and she saw her own conflicting feelings echoed back in them.

_ No, _ she reminded herself.  _ He’s trying to win Bea’s heart. Why would he want you when he could have a princess? _ She forced herself to let go of his face, sitting back a little. 

But Ajay didn’t let her. As soon as she let go, he stood up, moving to sit on the mattress next to her. He leaned forward, so much so that she had to cross her eyes to see him, and held the sides of her cheeks.

“Ajay?” she said softly, surprised.

“Grace,” he replied, his voice certain. Then, a quiet question: “Can I?”

Stunned, Grace could only nod.  _ This can’t be happening. There’s no way he’s about to-- _

Then his lips were on hers, and Grace couldn’t think anymore. His hands cupped the sides of her face, and it felt as protective as his arm around her had. 

Ajay’s kiss was desperate in a way, and uncharacteristic of the serious guy she’d come to know. After a beat of shock, she leaned into the kiss, tentatively placing a hand on each of his shoulders. 

Grace’s heart was pounding, and she knew Ajay could feel her pulse with his fingers that had drifted down to her neck. It was all she could do to keep breathing, to keep kissing him back. 

They parted for breath after a few more seconds, Ajay resting his forehead gently against Grace’s. He still held her face, thumbs drawing circles on her cheeks while his fingers rested right over where her pulse could be felt on her neck. She exhaled shakily, trying to bring her brain back to focus, but it was too hard to think with Ajay right there.

Finally catching her breath, Grace locked eyes with Ajay again, and this time it was her who leaned in, gripping his shoulders as their lips met again. He hummed a little against her lips, making her smile, and one of his hands tangled itself into her hair. When Grace pressed impossibly closer, he swiped his tongue along her bottom lip, making her shiver. She allowed him access and then found herself in a state of bliss, like kissing Ajay was the only thing that mattered in the world. She hooked her fingers around his jacket’s lapels, deepening the kiss.

The feeling went to her head, and Grace had never wanted anyone or anything so much. Even back when she was with Owen, there was something always keeping her from showing her deepest feelings, from trusting him completely with herself. While Ajay was kissing her like she was something beautiful and precious, her walls stayed down. She was vulnerable, and was surprised to find that she didn’t hate it at all.

Ajay broke away from her after a long time, and they both caught their breath. When Grace looked back up at Ajay, he was staring at her. She blushed, turning a little self conscious under his gaze.

Grace started to say something, the doubts in her head just too big to ignore.  _ What does that mean? Did he mean to do that? Does he regret it? _

Ajay just shook his head before she could say anything. “I know what you’re going to say,” he said, “and I don’t really know anything except that... I really care about you. Everything’s so uncertain, but I’m certain about that.”

Grace’s heart warmed at his words, and she looked down at her lap, where her hands were wringing. Ajay took them in his and brought one of her hands to his lips, gently kissing the back.

“I care for you, too,” she finally replied, making eye contact with him again. “I don’t know what to do about it, but I know I do.”

Ajay smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I guess we’re on the same page, then.”

Grace closed her eyes and nodded, leaning her forehead against his. His arms moved to wrap around her waist and he kissed her again. Not knowing what else to do, Grace let herself get lost in her feelings, intuitively knowing that it was safe to be vulnerable with him. She tried to project that vulnerability, the depth of her feelings for him, into every kiss they shared. She just hoped he could feel it.

***

Slowly, Bea’s brain emerged back into consciousness. First, her ears registered the sound of the doors to the safe room opening. Then the rest of her came back, her muscles adjusting themselves to the surface she’d fallen asleep on, and she opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was a pair of legs, and the first thing she felt were fingers in her hair. She dimly registered that she might’ve panicked another time, but her mind was just too slow and lazy to do that. So instead, she rolled over, hoping to figure out who was messing with her hair.

Rory’s face grinned down at her, a soft dopey smile. “Oh, you’re awake,” he said. “Just in time. The attack’s over.”

_ The attack. _ Bea mulled the words and their meaning over in her mind a few times before she realized their true depth. She could remember the feelings: all the anxiety, the grief, the flashbacks of her parents’ deaths, but they all seemed so distant now. Mostly she was just tired.

An officer came in, one that Bea barely recognized, and spoke with her grandfather and her brother for a few moments before he left again.

“We’ve been given the all clear,” her grandfather announced, and everyone in the room started to visibly relax. Rory squeezed Bea’s shoulder, and she propped herself up on the bench so that he could get up.

Once he was standing, Rory extended a hand for Bea to help her up. She didn’t think she was completely awake, but she knew she had a job to do, so she took his hand.

Instantly, Ian was at her side. 

“How’re you doing?”

“I’m tired,” she said, giving him a half smile. “And I really want to make sure Skye’s okay.”

“Wait, what did you say happened?” Rory asked, and Ian filled him in about the explosion. From his angle, Bea gathered, he hadn’t been able to see that anyone was against the wall when it exploded.

Bea could feel a sick heaviness return to her body as she remembered everything that had triggered her panic attack. The explosion and not being able to see Skye after.

Bea let go of Rory’s arm, and he was pulled away reluctantly by Ian, who saw that his sister needed a little space. The men in the room started to leave, walking ahead of the women who were still hanging back. Bea got about two seconds to breathe before the ladies surrounded her, Maria at the head of the charge. They started walking, and Bea tried to focus on Mia instead of the wreckage that was visible as soon as they left the safe room.

“Your Highness, we were so worried about you when we heard about what happened while you were in the dining room,” she was saying, but Bea could only process about half the words. She was distracted by something that seemed missing. Someone who would’ve usually been by her side the entire time. She quickly remembered who it was, and felt incredibly guilty for not realizing immediately.

“Where’s Grace?” Bea blurted, accidentally interrupting something that Mia was saying. The ladies all looked around at each other, and then Maria hesitantly spoke.

“None of us have seen her, Your Highness,” she said. “I remember seeing her heading to the kitchens about half an hour before lunch, but I didn’t see her after that because I took lunch in my suite."

The sick feeling in Bea’s heart increased, weighing on her even more heavily. Could Grace be gone too? It was bad enough that Skye was missing, but Bea didn’t know how she’d get through the next few hours, much less the coming days, without them both at her side.

The group walked through more hallways, and without anything to talk about, Bea couldn’t help but look around. There were more than a few piles of smoking debris in the halls that the group had to wind around, and dust so thick in the air that it made them cough. Bea could see a few places where a tapestry or a painting had been dislodged, or worse, completely destroyed by gunshots or an explosion.

It was a heart-wrenching scene, especially when the group got closer to one of the main halls. Medics were still treating some victims, but through one of the archways there were bodies lined up on the floor. Bea couldn’t help but look, trying to count the deceased. Most of them wore soldier’s uniforms, and a few wore servants’ clothing. She stopped to survey the bodies, effectively holding up the rest of the group.

A quick glance at the bodies let her rule out Ajay or Skye from being among the deceased, as none of the bodies were dressed in clothes befitting a noble. But she had to look closer to make sure she didn’t recognize Grace. One of the dead was a maid, short with brown hair like Grace’s, her face almost unrecognizable with burns. Bea stepped closer, hoping to find some recognizable feature to prove that it wasn’t Grace.

Suddenly, Lady Sydney let out a gasp and hurried to the front of the group, kneeling next to the maid’s body.

“Did you know her?” Bea asked, praying that the girl would say yes and confirm that it wasn’t Grace.

Sydney nodded, pointing at the bracelet on the girl's wrist. “She was my maid,” she said. “Her name was Isabel.”

Bea let out a sigh of relief, but instantly felt horrible when she saw Sydney tearing up. Mia had already pushed her way to the front of the group as well, and the blonde kneeled beside Sydney. Sydney buried her face in Mia’s shoulder, her small body wracked with sobs as the other girl rubbed her back.

Bea turned to the rest of the group. “Let’s give them some space,” she suggested, and the rest of the ladies nodded and filed out of the room. Bea stayed behind briefly, kneeling on Sydney’s other side and wrapping the girl in a hug of her own before getting up and leaving the two to grieve.

Knowing that Ajay, Skye and Grace weren’t in the recorded dead was only a little comfort to Bea. Any of them could still be dead but buried underneath rubble and not found yet. Bea tried to tell her brain to shut up, but the medicine she’d taken hours before was starting to wear off and her anxiety was returning. 

Before she could worry much more, the group of ladies suddenly stopped moving. Ian had turned around from where the men were up ahead, obviously blocking one of the main hallways.

“We’ll find another way around,” Ian said brusquely, taking Bea’s arm and steering her towards a side hallway.

“Wait, why?” Bea asked. That was the most direct way to the infirmary, any other way would add minutes to the time to get there.

“There’s part that’s caved in,” Ian said, not meeting Bea’s eyes. “It’s too dangerous, so we should go another way.”

And normally, Bea would’ve accepted that explanation, but she was suspicious when Ian refused to look her in the eye. He also looked much more on-edge than he had even during the attack.

“Ian?” Bea asked, her voice started to shake again. “What’s really down there?”

_ Is it Skye? _ A small fearful voice spoke inside her head.  _ Did they find her? Is she… Is she…? _

“I told you,” he said evasively. “Just some damage.”

Bea shook her head and wrenched her arm out of Ian’s grasp. “I don’t believe you.”

“Bea,” he said, finally meeting her eyes. “Please, just trust me. You don’t want to go down there.”

Bea shook her head again, escaping Ian’s attempt to take her arm again and pushing through the group of men, past the guards whose eyes widened when they saw her and into the hallway.

At first she didn’t see anything abnormal: the Great Hall had been trashed, sure, and most of the furnishings had been reduced to rubble, but it looked no worse than much of the hallways on that floor did. But then Bea turned to examine the wall behind her, and that was where she saw the words.

Smeared in rushed, crimson letters spelled out “ _ God Can’t Save Your Queen _ ”. Bea had to stare at it for ages before the message sunk in. It occurred to her first that the crimson words had been written in blood, and that revelation almost made her stumble backwards.

Ian was behind her in a second, having run after her. He supported her as she stared at the words, her entire body shaking as she realized what they meant.  _ God save the new Queen _ , the rebel who’d killed her parents had said.  _ Not that you're gonna live long enough, Your Majesty _ .

“He came back,” she mumbled. “He… he came back for me.”

“What?” Ian said back, quietly enough that the guards couldn’t hear them. “Who?”

“The rebel who k-killed Mom and Dad,” she whispered back, barely able to say the words. “When he was about to kill Leon, he said ‘God save the new Queen. Not that you’re gonna live long enough.’”

Ian grew pale. “What, do you think it’s the same one? Or do you think maybe that’s their motto?”

Her hands were shaking so much she had to ball them into fists. “He came back for me,” she repeated, a tear welling up in her eyes as she remembered the rebel’s rough voice, the gunshots, then her oldest brother bleeding out on her lap. Heat replaced the anxiety coiling in her heart, and she found herself wanting to scream at the words. She wiped a drop of tear furiously as it rolled down her cheek.

“He couldn’t kill me then, and now he’s come back to finish the job,” she spat, still quietly so that the rest of the people couldn’t hear them. “The only question is, when will it be enough for him?”

“Bea,” Ian started, sounding concerned. “I think they caught some of the rebel soldiers. You can talk to them later, if you want…”

“Good,” she said, still not able to tear her eyes away from the words on the wall. “They should pay for what they did to our family. I’ll talk to them as soon as I can.”

Ian looked like he wanted to object, but he didn’t say anything as Bea turned on her heel, forcing her eyes off the writing on the wall, and stalked through the hall to the infirmary. No matter how much she wanted to kill the man who’d destroyed her family, she still had to find Skye, Grace and Ajay.

Vizmund trailed after her, looking agitatedly around them as they headed straight to the wide open doors off the infirmary with the medics and doctors rushing in and out treating people.

The hallway outside was already lined up with victims, all screaming in pain and calling for help at anyone who could listen to their cries. Half of them had already passed out and some looked like it was almost too late for them. She doesn't need to see the numbers to know that there were even more casualties in this attack than any of the previous ones and a part of her was breaking knowing she couldn't do anything to save them.

Bea received a few harried greetings on her way into the infirmary but she barely heard any of them over the loud beating of her heart. She lifted the skirt of her dress as she practically ran inside, her head whipping from one side to the other, checking every one of their faces for Skye, or Grace, or Ajay. Only when she reached further inside did she see a very familiar maid sitting up on one of the beds and in a tensed conversation with the guy sitting close to her bedside.

"Grace! Oh my god!" Bea almost cried in relief, letting out the air she didn't know she was holding. She was surprised to see the guy turned out to be Ajay, who jumped to his feet quickly when they heard her voice. "Ajay?"

  
  


***

"Hold still, please," the nurse mumbled as she gently attempted to wrap Grace's ankle on an elastic bandage.

Which was a struggle, since she couldn't help but flinch away whenever the old woman would touch her swollen ankle. 

"I'm sorry," Grace whimpered, her hands gripping Ajay's arm tightly as she went through the painful process of having her sprain wrapped up.

Ajay adjusted his glasses with his other hand, regarding Grace with a concern look. "Just a little more."

"I know," Grace bit her lip, nodding for the nurse to finish it and silently whimpered as the woman finally smiled up at her.

"There you go," the nurse told her, putting a pillow beneath her leg to elevate it. "It should be good within a couple of weeks. Just don't put too much pressure on it."

"Are you sure it's not broken, nurse?" Ajay asked. "It looked really bad."

"You were lucky it was only a sprain, nothing too drastic that will take up months for you to heal." The nurse reminded her. "But please come back if it doesn't get any better and we'll see what the problem was, okay? Don't forget to ice it for twenty to thirty minutes for every few hours on the first few days."

Grace nodded, sniffing. "Thank you."

"I'll send someone to give you some anti-inflammatory medications to help reduce the swelling. And as much as possible, keep it rested. Meaning, no working."

With that, the nurse left them to attend to the other patients who needed urgent care. Grace gaped after the old woman, looking at Ajay to make sure they heard the same thing.

"No working?" She demanded. "But I have a job!"

"You can't work when you can't even walk properly, Grace." Ajay said. "I think it's better if you take a few weeks break from working. I'm sure they'd find a substitute for you in the meantime."

"Are you serious? What about Bea? I don't trust anyone to take care of  _ my _ work properly and I'm sure she won't too."

"She'd understand."

Ajay sighed heavily, holding an ice pack to his jaw as he leaned heavily on the bed beside her, his thick eyebrows furrowed like his mind was occupied with something else.

Reaching out and putting a hand on his arm, Grace felt her worry fade a little as she looked down at him. "I'm sorry, are you okay?"

He smiled a little, softly. "I'm alright. Just…"

"What's wrong?" Grace urged, squeezing his arm over the slightly torn fabric of his jacket.

Ajay looked into her eyes and it took him a while before he spoke. "What do we do now, Grace? I mean… what happens to us now?"

"I don't know…" Grace averted her gaze down to her lap, unsure how to answer that question herself. 

Her heart never failed to skip a beat whenever her mind would fleet back to the way his lips felt against hers, the gentle way he held her. The same time, the feeling of bliss would always be accompanied by guilt whenever she was reminded of Bea.

"I feel really weird,” she finally said. “Because of Bea. You’re supposed to be here for her.”

Ajay sighed. “I know. And you’re her best friend, so you don’t want her to get hurt. I don’t either.”

“Do you… know if she feels anything for you?”

Ajay looked down, and Grace assumed it meant that he didn’t want to answer. So that must mean that something had happened between him and Bea, which put her directly against the interests of the future queen. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who would win that fight.

“Maybe at the beginning,” Ajay said. “And maybe I felt something for her, too. But I don’t anymore, and I doubt that she does either. Whenever we’re together, she seems so far away, but when I’m with you, I know we’re really together. That makes a world of difference for me.”

Grace fixed her gaze on Ajay. “But if there’s any chance that you two have feelings for each other, you know this won’t work.”

“Grace…” Ajay said in a low voice, reaching for Grace’s hand, but she pulled it away. The two looked at each other in silence, and Grace wanted to say something so badly, but she didn’t know what, and then a voice was calling her name.

“Grace!” Bea cried, dashing over to Grace’s bedside, her brother Ian wasn't far behind. Both their clothes had spots of dark-red stains that Grace didn't bother asking what they might be. "Oh my god!”

Ajay shot out of his seat like it was on fire and bowed when Bea neared. Grace did her best to show deference with a nod, doing it more out of guilt than out of any semblance of being proper.

“Bea, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said. “I was so worried about you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the blonde said, eyes scanning Grace all over for any injury and the girl's brown eyes widened as they reached her wrapped-up ankle. Vizmund appeared from behind the princess' dress and started sniffing at Grace's foot. “What happened to you?" 

"Did they hurt you?” Ian added.

"I, uh, I got it while we were trying to get away." Grace explained as vaguely as she could, hoping not to reveal anything. "It's not that bad."

Bea looked at her to Ajay and Grace worried the princess might have already connected the dots. "You two were together?"

_ Oh no… _

Ajay nodded, extremely tensed. "Yes, we… were talking when they started coming."

There was a bit of a pause before the girl wrapped Ajay into a tight hug, voice heavy when she spoke. "I'm glad you two had each other. I hadn't seen you at all so I was so worried you'll get hurt."

Eyebrows raised, Ajay met Grace's eyes over Bea's shoulder and she shrugged, suddenly relieved. Bea pulled back eventually and turned to her, her frown was filled with concern.

Grace couldn't help but reach out and take the princess' hand. "Did something happen?"

"It's Skye, s-she…" Bea faltered and just those words were enough to make Grace look at the blonde, unable to stop the feeling of dread that had been on the girl's face since she entered the infirmary.

"What happened to Skye?" Grace asked, one glance at Ajay and she knew he'd been wondering the same thing. 

Ian answered for his sister. "She was caught in an explosion while we were on our way to safety and we haven't found her." The prince turned to Bea, a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I already sent men to look for her but I should go help out, can I take Vizmund with me?"

Bea nodded somberly. "Yes, he-- he'll know how to find her."

"Stay here," Ian whispered, shooting Grace a soft smile. "You too, Grace. That looks nasty."

"I will."

"Um, may I go with you?" Ajay suddenly spoke up, looking uncertain. "Skye had become a friend of mine around here. I'd feel better if we find her soon."

"Sure. We'll be back, ladies." Ian nodded at them before making his way out of the infirmary doors with Ajay and the white dog behind, careful not to get in the way of the rushing medics and the patients being carted in.

"She'll be okay," Grace squeezed on Bea's hand and the girl managed a little smile, although unconvinced. "Come here, you look really tired."

Grace scooted a little on the bed to give Bea some space and the princess obliged, getting on the bed and leaning back on the pillows shoulder-to-shoulder with Grace and she didn't mind when the girl laid her head on her small shoulders. Bea had been breathing a bit shallow and the tired look on her face suggested she had one of those panic attacks once again.

After witnessing her parents and older brother killed and died right before her eyes, Grace hadn't been a bit surprised when Bea had started getting these episodes whenever the rebels would come and terrorize the palace. She had seen the princess in her worst form possible and it was hard to watch as Bea seemed to relive that moment inside her head over and over with no way to avoid it as Grace looked on, helpless on how to get the girl out of it. Bea would simply shrug it off on a normal day, refusing to let the people talk about it but Grace knew it shouldn't be that easy.

Rita had been a great help and the King Father even let the woman invite a friend of hers, a therapist on matters such as these, to talk to Bea about it but Grace wasn't sure how helpful that would be unless the rebels suddenly decided to stop it altogether.

"Did you take your medicines?" Grace whispered, shifting a little.

Bea nodded weakly on her shoulder. "I did. I had a little nap."

"I'm glad you did. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I was… I was worried about the two of you too." Bea said, her words slow. "I saw this maid, she… she was among the bodies they l-lined up out there, and for a moment, I was scared she was you."

"Aw, Bea," Grace said. "I should have come to you during that lunch." She glanced to her ankle and sighed heavily. "Now I'm not sure if I could even walk all the way to your room."

"Hey, it will be fine. Take a few weeks off, I'll be alright."

"I don't know if I want to, I don't like feeling so--"

"Don't. I know what you're about to say so don't."

Grace remained silent and she thought Bea had fallen asleep right there on her shoulder but she realized the girl had just been staring at the space all this time, looking at nothing in particular, one of the side-effects of her medication that she had grown familiar with. Grace's bed was located at the far end of the emergency room of the infirmary, near the rooms where they usually put the patients who were in need of intensive medical care. There were only a few of them, the ones who needed much more help were transported to the main hospital in the city. Still, the view they get of all the victims who were being rushed in probably wouldn't help Bea feel any better. 

Grace was yanked from her thoughts when she felt the princess suddenly jump from her spot and looking up, she saw Ian and Ajay carrying a stretcher where a familiar red-haired girl was lying on it. Bea met them halfway and if possible, the sight of all the grime and dried up blood covering Skye made the dread in Bea's eyes tripled within a second.

_ God, let her be alright… _ Grace prayed in her head, trying to sit up and failed when a pain spiked from her leg. 

"Skye? Skye… " Bea called out, reaching out on the redhead's hand and not paying any mind to the Duke and his wife who were trailing behind their daughter a little far behind, worry all over their faces and Grace hoped it better be genuine. "Ian, why is she not awake?" The princess asked, her voice breaking. "Skye?"

The prince gave Ajay a furtive look that didn't escape Grace's eyes and she was glad they didn't answer because she was worried Bea might not take it well.

"We're taking her inside, Doctor." Ian said as they pushed through the doors and one of the empty rooms. 

Dr. Emery and a few of her nurses ran after them, jumping into action. It was hard to see what was happening inside but Grace saw the group transfer a very limp Skye to the other bed as carefully as possible. 

Lady Crandall shot Grace a glance and must have recognized her as Bea's maid. Before Grace could decide whether to regard them or not with a word, she heard Bea's voice once more.

"No, no, I have to be there." The princess pushed against her brother and Ajay. 

"You can't, they need to treat her, Bea," Ian whispered, aware of the Duke and Lady Crandall not far from them. 

"But…"

"Bea, we have to believe she will be okay." Ajay said in a solemn tone. "She will be."

The three words seemed to have worked and Bea reluctantly nodded as she was pulled away from the doors by the prince, her brown eyes fixed on the redhead from the other room.

"How's my daughter?" Duke Crandall demanded. "What's her condition?"

"They're still looking into her injuries, Your Grace." Ian responded. "It will take them a while considering…"

"Thank you for saving our daughter, Your Highness," Lady Crandall stepped forward, taking Ian's hand in both of hers in supplication, taking the prince by surprise. "We will forever be grateful that you and our Skye have gotten quite close. We wouldn't know what we'd do if you hadn't found her."

"Uh," Ian glanced at his sister, who was equally perplexed. "Our dog, Vizmund, actually found Lady Skye. She's a friend of my sister, and I care for her like a friend would."

The Duke appeared to not be satisfied by Ian's response but didn't show it. "We're still grateful for rushing her to help, Your Highness."

"I wish there's more we could do, but we'll all have to wait. Let's go, Bea," Ian excused himself and took Bea's arm, guiding her back to where Grace sat. 

"Is she gonna be okay?" Grace asked, glancing at the door where Skye was brought in. 

"We'll have to hope she will." Ajay told her.

"We should all clean up while we wait for them." Ian looked down at his grubby tattered shirt. "Bea?"

"I--I don't…" Bea shook her head. "I don't want to leave her, Ian."

Ian sighed. "We can't do anything for now, we might as well take the time to clean up and have a little food."

"You'll feel better after a good bath, Bea," Grace added. "I'd take you myself but, well…"

"I have to make sure she's alright."

Even Ajay decided to speak up, giving Grace a fleeting look. "We'll be back. But first, we need to change out of these."

"I wish I could change too." Grace said wistfully, which seemed to have distracted the princess for a bit. 

"I'll send someone to get some extra clothes for you." Said Bea. "How long do you have to stay here?"

"Until tomorrow, I suppose. They wanted to make sure it would stop swelling."

Bea let out a defeated sigh, looking over the room as if willing the redhead to come out of it. "We'll be back."

"I'll watch out for her," Grace promised and Bea smiled at that, letting her brother lead her out of the infirmary.

The Crandalls weren't far behind and it was hard for Grace not to scoff. Once the princess and the prince left, it seemed the couple had forgotten about their daughter who had been fighting for her life just in the other room. 

Ajay watched them all go with her and once the four were out of the door, he reached over and for her hand and she let him. 

Grace looked up. "Will you be back too?" 

"You can count on it." Ajay made sure to cover their joined hands from everyone in the infirmary before pressing the back of her hand to his lips, the gesture making her heart flutter. "We still need to talk, but that can wait, Grace. We'll find a way."

She nodded, momentarily rendered speechless and Ajay started to turn.  _ Oh my god. Stop it, you stupid heart. You're not helping this already complicated situation _ . His broken glasses glinted under the white fluorescent in the ceiling.

"You should ask your butler to get you a replacement for those." Grace reminded her.

"I have a spare." Ajay said. "When my glasses broke the first time, Bea had me made an extra pair in case something like this happens."

"Oh," Grace smirked. "That does sound like her."

Ajay nodded, and then opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by Owen’s arrival.

“Gracie?” he said, relief clear on his face. “Oh, god, Gracie. You’re okay. Thank god.”

Grace was bewildered by his presence, but accepted the hug he gave her. As much as she didn’t want to talk to him, she was still glad he had survived the attack.

“What happened?” he asked once he pulled away, brushing his finger against her wrapped ankle. Grace flinched away from the touch, pain radiating through her foot, and over Owen’s shoulder, Ajay looked like he wanted to hit something.

Owen followed Grace’s gaze to Ajay, and he frowned as soon as he saw the guy. Owen gave a civil nod, and Ajay returned it, but the tension between them was clear.

“I’m… going to go check on Bea,” Ajay decided after a lengthy stare-down. With one last look at Grace, he left the infirmary.

“That guy again? Gracie, I thought we talked about that.”

Grace sighed, wincing a little from pain that shot up her leg from where Owen touched it. Owen saw her expression change and immediately took his hand off his ankle, looking guilty for hurting her.

“Ajay saved my life when I got stuck in the hallway and I couldn’t walk to the safe room,” Grace explained, lying by omission a little to avoid Owen’s suspicion. “There’s nothing going on.”

Owen sighed. “I’m sorry. You must be in a lot of pain.”

“It hurts a lot,” Grace admitted. “But enough about me. How bad was the fighting? Did you get hurt?”

Owen shook his head. “I was off-duty, actually. By the time the rest of us in the soldiers’ quarters had gotten dressed and readied our weapons, most of the bad stuff was over. And they had me patrol a pretty quiet area.”

“Good,” Grace nodded. “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

“A lot more staff were killed this time around,” Owen frowned. “Because it happened in the middle of the day. The rebels are getting bolder.”

“How many?” Grace was almost scared to ask. She’d already seen Greg and Rita as they’d passed through the infirmary, but she was worried for her other friends.

“Fifteen,” Owen said, and Grace’s heart sank. “Mostly stable hands and the groundskeepers. They were killed before the rebels came in, they think. To silence them. The guards killed on duty weren't counted yet but...” 

Grace shook her head, unable to quantify the loss. “How could they do something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Owen replied. “I guess if you’re desperate enough—“

“Innocent people are just collateral damage?”

“Bingo,” Owen sighed. “I wish I could stay here with you, but they’re doubling up the patrols again. But stay safe, okay? And please, stay away from that Ajay guy.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re not my boyfriend anymore. You can’t tell me who I can talk to.”

“It’s pretty clear he’s just trying to take advantage of you to get closer to Bea,” Owen retorted. “If you can’t see that, then you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Grace shot back. “Is it so hard to believe that I might just have friends who like me for me, not because I’m the Crown Princess’ maid?”

“Sure, but come on, Grace. A Three voluntarily talking to a Six when he should be wooing a One? You have to admit that’s suspicious.”

“You’re a Two,” Grace pointed out. “What if you’re just trying to get something from me too?”

“It’s different with me, you know that. You know how much I lo—“

“Don’t say that,” Grace said, softer this time. “Please, go.”

“Think about it,” Owen said as he stood up. He reached over to touch Grace’s cheek, which made her frown, but then he was on his way out of the room before she could say anything.

***

"My lady?" The guard outside knocked on the door of her suite twice. "There's someone out here looking for you, Your Highness."

"I'll be right out!" Bea called back, wrapping a thin shawl around her shoulders as she finished getting ready for the evening.

Everything felt weird, especially with the lack of Grace's presence who was usually the one helping her, sometimes, even on her day off as the girl spends her free days hanging out in the room with her if she doesn't have anywhere to go anyway.

Maria offered to send a couple of maids over but Bea refused. She didn't feel like being around anyone and it was nice to be able to do simple things on her own from time to time, it helped that it distracted her from all thoughts and worry for Skye whom she left in the infirmary with the doctors, barely alive.

She couldn't forget the coldness she felt from Skye's hand when Ian and Ajay had rushed her to the infirmary. Her skin was so pale and cold, almost like a marble sculpture and it almost scared Bea out of her mind just by the thought that Skye might not be in there anymore. She tried to shake the thought out of her head, busying herself as she looked for shoes in her walk-in closet and decided on a pair of slip-ons.

Once done, she looked around her room one last time knowing she was forgetting something. Her eyes settled on the freshly-picked white rose set on top of her bed that she requested from the maid who served her dinner earlier, all thorns cut off. In her heart, she was hoping Skye would be awake by now.

She heard from Ian that the doctors operated on Skye for a few hours. Bea doesn't even know whether she'd want to hear the extent of Skye's injuries or if she'd have to face a much worse outcome once she stepped into the infirmary. Bea would have stayed by her side if they only let her.

Picking up the rose gently, Bea headed to the doors and stepped out, almost forgetting that someone was waiting outside.

One of the guards nodded to the end of the hallway where the familiar figure of Rory Silva stands, examining a painting on the wall. Upon hearing the sound of the doors opening, Rory turned and smiled. "Bea."

"Rory," she responded, offering a little smile as she walked towards him. "What brought you all the way up here?"

"I wanted to see how you're doing, which I would have done sooner but some of us offered our services for a bit with the start of the renovations."

"I'm feeling a lot better now, thank you."

"I didn't expect you to still be awake at this hour but I won't pretend that I wasn't happy you're here." Rory's eyes took in her outfit and raised an eyebrow. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah," Bea held up the rose in her hand a little. "I was just about to go and check on Skye and Grace."

"Oh." He didn't offer any more questions and held out his arm. "May I walk you then, my lady?"

"Of course." Bea held on to his arm and they made their way to the stairs.

"I heard what happened to them," Rory spoke after a few minutes of silence. "If there's anything I can do, I'll be here."

"Grace had a sprain, she won't be able to work in a few weeks to say the least but I'm glad she and Ajay weren't hurt badly. But Skye…" Bea sighed. "Here's hoping she wasn't hurt as bad as she looked."

"I admit, I'm not that close with Skye but I'd be here just the same." Rory looked down on her with that same caring smile. "You care for her in ways I can't comprehend and that's enough reason for me to hope the best for her."

Bea didn't know how to respond to that so silence went over the two of them once more, making their trip much faster.

The hallway outside the infirmary had been cleared from all the patients being treated there this afternoon, most of them must have been sent to their quarters or homes to recover and the rest were transferred to the beds inside once the others had been cleared from their injuries. The place was still full, some of the victims' conditions appeared to be worse than the others and might be staying there a bit longer from the way they see it. Bea stopped on some of the beds when she saw the patients awake and asked how they were doing. It was the least she could do, and she was just glad none of them had realized she was one to blame from all of this.

"Good night, sir," she heard Rory say to the patient on the bed next to them, getting her attention from the spiral of thoughts going on inside her head.

Bea gave the man a smile. "Please don't hesitate to ask me or any of us if you need anything."

"You're too kind, Your Highness."

"Good night, Mr. Crosby."

They both nodded at him and the patient next to Mr. Crosby, one of the senior maids before they moved ahead to where Grace's bed was located. 

There was a familiar figure standing next to her bed and she smiled as they got closer.

"Ajay?" Rory asked, looking surprised.

The guy looked equally surprised to see them. "Bea? Rory?"

Grace looked from her to Rory. "Hey, I didn't know Rory would be with you."

"He was checking on me, then offered to walk me all the way here." Bea replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"That's really sweet of you, sir." Grace teased.

Bea flushed. "I can see you're already feeling better enough to tease me. How's the patient, Sir Ajay?"

"Hm?" The guy's eyes fleeted at her to Grace as if she asked him something scandalous. Ajay recovered quickly. "Oh. She tried to go with me when I said I'm going to check in on Skye. She managed two steps before she gave up and plopped back down."

"I managed more steps than two!" Grace said defensively.

Ajay's face lightened up. "Right."

Bea looked at the two of them with a smile, happy that the attack seemed to have brought something positive for once. The two appeared to be close enough to exchange banters. 

Her smile dropped as her gaze landed on the door to where Skye was brought in earlier, her heart started beating fast in fear of what she might find behind the doors. She felt a hand slid on top of her and Bea realized the hand holding the white rose had been trembling until Grace held her hand. 

"I'm guessing that wasn't for me?" The girl asked.

"No." Bea shook her head.

"Aw, and here I thought I'd get some love from my best friend." 

She couldn't help but give in a little laugh, rolling her eyes and Grace smiled at that. 

Grace tilted her head to the door. "I grilled Dr. Emery about Skye's condition as soon as they finished operating on her. Whatever happened to her during that explosion… she was lucky to even make it out alive. Or that someone found her immediately."

"They had her scanned," Ajay added. "And it appeared she had a brain hemorrhage from the concussion she got which is the same reason they had to operate on her in the first place. I thought they'd have to bring her to Angeles Medical Center but Dr. Emery said she'd be good for now. They'll monitor her condition for the following days and if she doesn't wake up, I think they'd have to really send her there."

"Wow." Rory blinked.

_ If she doesn't wake up... _ Bea couldn't make herself think about how she'll feel if Skye…

"Go ahead," Grace said, softly this time. "You can go in if you want to see her."

Suddenly, Bea didn't seem so sure anymore if she'd want to see Skye in the state but she knew she wanted to be on her side. Bea opened her mouth but didn't know exactly what to say.

"I'll go with you," Rory said quickly, noting the look on her face. "They'll let the two of us in, right? Unless Ajay wants to come too."

"I've just been." Ajay shrugged. "You two go ahead."

Rory offered his hand and Bea hesitantly took it, letting him guide her past the nurses' small station on the corner and towards the rooms at the end of the infirmary where they were keeping Skye. The nurses behind the desks stood up when they saw them passing, bowing quickly before Bea said good night to them. Rory walked ahead, opening the door quietly when they realized the other rooms were occupied now as well. Bea walked in slowly, taking in the scene before them.

Skye looked so small in the huge hospital bed, hooked up to all kinds of machines that beeped and displays that showed numbers that Bea couldn’t make sense of. Bea could barely even see Skye’s face under the oxygen mask she had on.

Bea’s legs started to shake, and she felt like she was going to cry, grabbing onto Rory’s arm for stability.

“Is she gonna be okay, Rory?”

Rory was silent for a few moments, patting Bea’s arm. “One thing I used to tell myself when I thought the same thing about my mom was, she’s getting better. Every moment that she’s resting or unconscious, she’s healing. She’s getting her strength back. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean the healing’s not already happening.”

Bea smiled faintly, letting Rory guide her towards the hospital bed. She clung to the bars on the side of the bed before sitting down on a chair that Rory had graciously grabbed for her.

Bea looked back down at the rose she had picked out for Skye, rubbing the stem between her fingers. She looked from the white petals to Skye’s pale complexion, resisting the urge to caress the girl’s face. Eventually, Bea set the rose down on the table beside Skye’s bed, positioning it carefully so that the girl would be able to see it when she woke up.

“Rory?”

“Yes?”

“I… think I’d like to be alone now. If you don’t mind.”

Rory stood up quickly, and Bea could hear a chair scooting back.  _ How long have I been here just watching Skye breathe? _

“Of course. Hey, I’ll come by your suite tomorrow to check on you, okay?”

“Okay,” Bea said, knowing she should say something nicer or more thankful for his consideration, but all of her focus was on Skye. 

“Goodnight, Bea.” Rory turned to leave, but before he stepped away, he turned back and planted a soft kiss on the top of Bea’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3 <3


	24. Wake Up, Skye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering from the attack, certain things come to light that Bea just can't ignore anymore.

Grace was shaken awake the next morning by a nurse, looking exhausted, poking around to check her vitals. She blinked one eye open to watch the nurse, but couldn’t summon enough energy to do anything more than just lay there.

It had been an exhausting night. Grace had forgotten how tiring it was to be in pain all the time. Not to mention the fact that it had been a full day since she’d eaten a meal. So Grace was ready to roll over once the nurse moved on and go right back to sleep when she saw a flash of blonde hair through the door of one of the private rooms.

And suddenly, she was wide awake. _What’s Bea doing here so early?_ A quick glance to the clock on the wall told Grace it was barely six in the morning, far too early for Bea to be up already.

Then she remembered. Bea had gone to visit Skye, and Grace hadn’t ever seen her leave Skye’s room.

Carefully picking up her crutches, which she already hated because they were meant for someone far taller than she was, Grace cautiously maneuvered herself over to the private room.

“I’m checking on the Princess,” she informed the nurse she passed by. He recognized Grace, and even though he frowned at the bulky wrap on her right foot, he nodded and Grace went through.

Bea sat on a chair next to Skye’s bed, curled up with a book in her hands. Grace didn’t know if she was reading or just spacing out, but the dark bags under her eyes made it clear that the girl hadn’t slept in the past few hours.

“Bea?” Grace asked softly, jumping a little reflexively when Bea startled and looked up from her book.

“Grace?” Bea replied, immediately going into protective mode. “What are you doing out of bed? Did they say you could get up?”

“Sort of,” Grace admitted, leaning forward on her crutches. “These crutches are meant for a giant.”

“Oh, so a regular-sized person compared to you,” Bea teased, the smile on her face not looking quite real enough to Grace.

“You look like a zombie,” Grace observed, not letting Bea get away with changing the subject. “Did you sleep at all?

Bea glanced at Skye and finally closed her book. “I might have dozed off a couple times,” she said, “but no, not really. I’m worried about Skye.”

“I’m sure it looks worse than it is, with all the tubes and stuff,” Grace reasoned. “She just needs some time.”

“I know,” Bea said, “but I just can’t stop worrying for her, and for you as well. How’s your ankle doing?”

“Hurts,” Grace shrugged, accepting the subject change this time. “And I’m tired and hungry. I’ll probably get to go back to my quarters soon, although that means you probably won’t see me much for a little while.”

“I’ll come visit you,” Bea said. “And we can talk about all the stuff my temporary maids do wrong.”

Grace smiled, grateful that Bea would go to such lengths just to keep her company. No matter what Owen said, Grace knew that Bea was a true friend to her. Not just treating her kindly out of pity, but because they were friends, despite all their differences.

_You’ll have to tell her someday,_ Grace’s brain reminded her. _About… everything. You can’t just keep that hidden. Remember how easy it was to tell Ajay? You can do it._

The words were on the tip of her tongue, her story and the tragedies of the past that still kept her up at night, but then Bea shot another look toward Skye, and Grace just couldn’t.

_How could I hurt her more with my problems? She’s already scared of losing Skye, I can’t make this about me._

“Hey, do you want to walk me down to my quarters?” Grace offered. “Maybe Greg can whip up something to eat for us.”

Bea brightened, and although Grace knew she didn’t want to leave Skye’s side, the promise of food was enough to tempt her away for a little while.

“Alright,” she said, closing her book and setting it down on the bedside table. She stood, and behind her, Grace could see the white rose laying next to the book.

***

From the window of the Men's Parlor, Bea was pleasantly surprised to see she could see the children playing in the maze garden far below, their giggles were too far for her to hear, but the huge smile on their faces as they chased each other on the grass made her wonder for a minute if the attack from yesterday really happened.

_If it didn't happen, then why hadn’t Skye opened her eyes? If it didn't happen, then why's there a long list of people who would need to be commemorated on the Report later that day?_ _Families who would never see their loved ones and children that would have to grow up without their fathers who had been killed when the rebels had managed to break in yet again_. 

Bea sighed, feeling the weight on her shoulders becoming heavier everyday. A long time ago, she used to be one of them. Innocent, unaware of the danger the life in the palace posed on everyone living in it and around them. She doesn't even remember anymore how old she was when she finally understood the alarm and fear on her parents' faces when they ran to that secret room far below on the basement of the palace every now and then. She remembered Leon telling her about the bogeyman being around in the palace looking to hurt people whenever she asked them why they were hiding and as a little girl, she didn't need much explanation with that.

Looking at the little children living in the palace, both the nobles and the children of the staff, Bea wondered if they were aware of the danger they had been in just yesterday. _Would they still want to play out there? Would they still want to be in the big beautiful palace?_

She knew there were very few places in the country she could truly consider safe, but anywhere seemed to be a lot safer than where they are right now. Someday, she was hoping the children of Solari won't need to wake up to the reality that the country they grew up in was a cruel one. Bea wouldn't wish the same fate she had, witnessing her own parents and sibling murdered in front of her, to anyone. She wouldn't wish to have them lose their father or brother to these rebels. 

Unfortunately, she had barely scratched the surface. Bea had a long way to go before she could fulfill that goal, if it's even attainable at all, but the recent attack made her realize she'd have to start taking action sooner than she expected to be.

"Bea?"

Bea turned from her spot beside the window, taking her eyes away from the scene on the garden below to meet her brother's imploring gaze. "Yes?"

She almost asked how he knew she was there before Bea realized she was in the Men's Parlor. Just like the Women's Room where no men could enter without the permission of the lady of the house-- which is her-- the Men's Parlor worked the same as she had to ask their grandfather a permission to enter the room with a purpose of talking to some of her suitors without the prying eyes of the other nobles. 

Behind him, she could see Maria lingering by the doorway with some of the suitors she had summoned. 

The frown on his face was a confirmation of the words that came out of his lips. "I'm afraid I have come bearing bad news."

"What happened?"

"One of the rebels we caught yesterday died from his injuries last night and the other one…" Ian paused, lowering his voice as if afraid the others would hear him that Bea had to lean closer. "They found him dead in his cell this morning when the warden was alerted of a gunshot noise. Apparently, he decided to shoot himself."

_What?_ Bea stared at her brother, waiting for the words to sink in. The rebels that were captured last night hadn't been interrogated, and two of them had already died… Frank already warned them that they already tried everything to make the rebels they catch speak but none of those attempts had ever worked before. 

"We still have one more, right?" She asked, trying to sound optimistic. 

"He was kept under close monitoring in case he'd try something."

"Good. Then we proceed with the interrogation this afternoon as planned. I need answers, and I'll take as much as information I can that will help us root them out."

"Of course, I'll tell the generals at one. They just arrived in Angeles." Ian gave her a grim nod before bowing and excusing himself from Maria and the suitors waiting outside the door as he left.

Bea put on a smile as she turned to them and gestured to the set of couches all over the parlor where the suitors were used to lounging on in their leisure times. "Hi, please have a seat."

"Your Highness." Maria nodded at her and the suitors bowed as they entered.

Mason was the first to take a seat, followed closely by Aiden then Clint and Robbie who seemed to have an idea on what she was about to discuss with them based on the nervous looks on their faces.

She took her time, running words inside her head to make sure they wouldn't come out hurtful somehow as she went to stand in front of them. Bea could see the same anxiety in their eyes as she looked into them one by one, taking a seat on a stool in front of them.

"Well, um…" she started, the awkward smile on her face made them smile in return. "We might as well get this over with, shall we?"

The suitors nodded and Maria gave her an encouraging smile.

"First of all, if you hadn't noticed, I may have been holding off on doing this for the last few weeks-- or a month-- I think?" Bea shrugged. "Because I was trying to get to know you, all of you, and the version of the world that each of you had shown me during your stay in here. But the recent attack and some of our advisors' urging, I've realized that I may have to let you go back to your families both for your safety and because I have to narrow down the Selection."

"So…" Mason looked at her then the others. "You're sending us home?"

"Yes," she sighed heavily. "But remember, I am not doing this because I've seen something in you that made me decide to send you away but rather the lack of compatibility between each of you to myself. Still, this doesn't make it easy for me to send you all home after everything."

Their shoulders sagged but they all nodded in understanding which was more than Bea had expected. She bit her lip, offering them each a handshake as they stood. 

"I suppose this is goodbye, Your Highness?" Mason asked.

Bea smiled, pretending to think. "We'll see."

"Well, I'd truly miss playing with you, my lady." Aiden added. "Aside from Lady Myra, you're one of the very few people I enjoyed playing music with."

"You'd make a great musician someday, Aiden Zhou."

"And I'd miss all of you here." Clint said, letting out a sniff. "May I-- May I have some time to say goodbye to the others?"

Bea reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, please. You'll have some time to talk to your friends while Miss Maria works on your travel arrangements."

"Thank you for having us, Your Highness." Robbie joined in, formal as ever. "It was truly memorable. And an honor."

"The honor's mine." Bea shot them one last smile and a wave before she turned and led Maria out of the Men's Parlor. Once they stepped out, the doors were closed behind them by her guards. She turned to the older girl beside her. "That went better than I expected."

"In time, I supposed they learned to get to know you and the stress you have to be in." Maria replied. "As disappointed as they must be with your decision, they understood you have to do it."

Bea let out a deep breath, releasing some of the tension from her shoulders. That was one agenda down, she still had a long day ahead of her. As much as she wanted to stay with Skye, she wasn't sure if she could handle waiting beside her bed and knowing there was nothing she could do to wake her up. All these tasks laid out to her for the day were a welcome distraction to keep her from worrying herself out of her mind. 

They separated ways once they stepped down the stairs in the Great Hall and Maria headed back to her office to deal with the travel arrangements of the suitors going home the same day. Bea, on the other hand, met her brother on their way to the prison facility where the remaining rebel captive they had was being kept. 

"Ready?" Ian asked, keeping pace with her as the guards opened the entrance for them. 

The four Wardens in charge of the four corners of Solari, Frank's fellow generals, had been summoned as well after the latest attack: General Richards of the East coast, General Wheeler of the West, General Cooke of the North and General Myers of the South. The four men met them as soon as they entered the vicinity and regarded them with salutes. There seemed to be more officers lined up inside and Bea had to brace herself as they were led into the interrogation room where Frank had been waiting for their arrival. She was surprised to find out that they would only be watching it from the other room, behind the two-way glass separating them from the small empty room where a single table and chair were positioned in the middle of the room currently occupied by their captive, who had been sitting with his eyes wide open and bloodshot. 

The room she, Ian and the generals would be watching from looked like an office itself, brightly-lit, with desks of computers and document shelves. Bea stood facing the two-way mirror, studying the rebel knowing he wouldn't see her from behind the glass. Still, as the man stared ahead, it's like his eyes could see through it. Frank passed a folder to Ian's hands, which he opened and Bea read with him. 

"We don't have a name yet?" She asked, looking at each of the generals after she scanned the files.

"No, Ma'am." Richards shook his head. "He refused to give out information."

"And we found that the skin on his fingers had been burned as well to avoid us from being able to trace his identity through his prints." Cooke added. "It seems it had been one of their initiation rights before joining their cause."

Bea glanced at Frank, trying to understand what they were saying. "What does that mean?"

Frank shrugged. "It appears that if you want to join their cause, you'd have to willingly leave your identity behind and devote your life to their movement."

"The others too?" Ian asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, sir," the generals responded at the same time.

"So we don't know what his name is or where he came from." Bea concluded. 

"We failed on identifying the others as well." General Myers added. "Any trace of who they used to be erased completely. These guys are good."

"Looks like they're more organized than we expected." Bea realized.

"Indeed, Your Highness."

"Alright." She shook her head. "Let's begin, please. We have to get something from him, anything we could use to find more about their movement."

Frank, as the general-in-chief, nodded to one of his fellow generals and Myers stood straight, confidently marching to the doors and to the other room where their prisoner sat. 

The man's eyes widened even more as he saw the cruel look on General Myers' face. He started struggling on his handcuffs as Myers got closer, taking a hold of the captive's face firmly between his fingers. "How about this," the general started, leaning closer to the man's ear. "You'll answer our questions and we'll make it quick. Don't make this any more painful for yourself than it had been since you got here."

"No." The man growled, spitting through his clenched teeth. Bea could see his mouth had been covered in blood, a result of the beating he must have received from when he was captured. "You should just go ahead and kill me."

"How about… no." Myers scowled, pressing a device on the man's neck and Bea saw the spark before it connected to the exposed skin of his neck. The rebel started grunting in pain as the electric shock ran through his body. "Speak!"

The man slumped forward on the table once Myers took the taser away, breathing hard. If possible, the rebel's eyes turned even more furious. "No."

"Speak!" Myers screamed to his ear, pressing the taser to his neck once again. "Who are you?!"

"I am… the faithful-- faithful soldier--" the man spoke through gritted teeth. "A faithful soldier-- to our one true leader!"

"Name!" Myers demanded.

The man didn't speak. 

"Speak now or God forbid I'd have to rip your tongue out right here in front of our future Queen."

The man suddenly looked up, eyes shooting through the two-way mirror as if he already knew she was there. Bea felt a cold shiver crawling down her spine.

"So she is here?" The man demanded, sounding hopeful despite the spit running down his mouth. "You can hear me?!"

Myers grabbed the man's face roughly. "You don't get to speak to her but you better answer her questions."

"They will come to you, girl." The rebel said, directing his words to her as he struggled to turn his face away from the general's grasp. "They will get you. You and your brother will get the same fate as you--"

"Shut up!" Myer screamed, slamming the man's face on the table before he could finish what he wanted to say. "Shut up!"

"Myers," Frank warned. 

Bea swallowed, looking away from the scene behind the mirror and saw Ian's balled fists, his knuckles turning white. She reached over and took his hand, her brother relaxing a little. "Frank, tell General Myers to proceed."

Frank did just that and Myers took a deep cleansing breath to compose himself, stepping away a little as the rebel raised his bleeding head from the table, dazed. Still, the man smirked through the mirror despite the blood gushing through his nose.

"Tell us where your base is." The general tried again, more calmly this time.

"Shouldn't you know?" The man returned. "You're the warden of the south."

"I'm not here to play games with you," Myers spoke in a low tone, enough for them to hear. "And I suggest you start considering your chances of survival seeing as I'm the one with a weapon here."

The man cackled despite it, really laughed until he could barely breath as Bea and Ian exchanged glances. 

"Fools," the man shook his head, wiping his teary eyes with the shoulders of his ripped shirt. "It is too late for you, Princess. Our leader has everything he needs and victory is within our grasps."

With that, the man started slamming his own head on the metal table in front of him. Bea jumped back, looking at the others frantically. Myers was taken aback for a second before he stepped forward to stop the man, which was a mistake as the man suddenly lunged and slammed Myers onto the table, managing to grab the general's gun once it got close to his cuffed hands. Bea and the others watched in horror as the man pointed the gun to his own head, shooting them a crooked smile through the glass before pulling the trigger.

"No!" Bea cried. 

Frank and the generals rushed to the other room but were too late to stop him. Myers had scrambled away, his lip bleeding when he hit the table as well. The wall behind the man was splattered with blood and gore, his head hanging on his shoulders with a portion of it caved in. She followed the droplets of blood falling down his arm and Bea could vaguely see the tattoo of a crowned lion on his forearm.

Bea leaned against the wall by the door, hand covering her mouth as she stared blankly at the scene in front of them. 

"Get the Princess out!" Frank ordered furiously. "Get her out!"

General Richards stood in front of her in an instant, hands carefully pushing her out the interrogation room with Ian. "My lady, Sir, please."

The general led them out of the facility and to the least popular hallway to avoid the people on the main ones. Bea marched ahead of them, her head still ringing from the gunshot considering how enclosed the room they had all been. One look at her brother and she knew it was the same for him.

Within minutes, the three of them made it to the King's study to find their grandfather sitting behind the desk. Ian made a beeline to the corner table where the bottles of bourbon and whiskey had been laid out. He poured himself a glass and downed it all in one shot. General Richards stood awkwardly near the window and Bea started pacing. 

"I'm sorry, did-- did any of you need a drink?" Ian offered, pouring himself another glass. "Because I needed one, possibly two."

"No, sir." The general replied.

The King Father set down his papers and removed his glasses, looking at them. The doors flew open once more and the four other generals walked in, even Myers, who had taken off his uniform which she remembered had been stained with blood. The old man studied their group. "What's going on?"

"The, uh, the captive, sir," Frank faced the King Father. "He managed to acquire a weapon and shot himself before we managed to extract any information from him."

Their grandfather raised his eyebrow. "Just like the others."

"Exactly," the generals responded.

"Another setback, I see," He nodded, thinking. "We'll find another way."

_Another way…_ Bea wondered, repeating his words. She knew another way but she wasn't sure how to even start her plan.

Looking up, she met Frank's eyes and the general shook his lightly, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"We'll shelve this, for now." The King Father continued. "Make sure the press won't get a hold on this information, especially not tonight. Transfer the bodies to the city coroner for further autopsy and report back to me once they're done."

"Copy, sir." Frank said.

"Beatrice."

Bea looked over to her grandfather. "Yes, grandfather?"

"Check if everything's ready for tonight's Report. The production team, the guests, the council."

"I will."

"You and your brother get ready right away. You look like you've witnessed a freak show." The old man added, making her and Ian exchanged glances. Their grandfather stood up. "You're all dismissed. I'll see you all in the studio within two hours."

The five generals saluted and stepped out, Ian wasn't far behind. Bea rushed after them. "General Walters?"

Frank turned. "Your Highness?"

"May I have a word?"

He turned to the others and excused himself. Myers shot them a curious look but followed Richards and the two fellow generals without a word. Frank met her halfway. 

"We're getting Wes Porter out." Bea started, her voice lowered just enough for him to hear as they headed to the direction of the Great Hall.

Frank froze on his step. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She met his eyes. "I need you to get him out of his cell. I'm sending him on a mission." 

"I'm sorry, Your Highness. We can't just do that. Especially _not_ with a high profile prisoner like Porter." He said, a little too loud and immediately looked around if anyone was close to overhear. Frank lowered his voice. "He is regularly monitored by my wardens."

"Make it happen, Frank. I have a feeling he'll be far more useful out there."

"Princess," someone greeted and Bea immediately put on a smile as two foreign ambassadors approached them. "It's an honor to see you."

"Ah, welcome, ambassadors! I suppose I'll be seeing you at the Report tonight?"

"Yes, Your Highness, we are looking forward to it."

"Likewise." Bea replied. "Please enjoy your stay while we wait for everyone."

The two gentlemen nodded respectfully at Frank before moving ahead. Once they were at a safe distance, the general went on. "My lady, first of all, we both know we can't trust that guy. I'm concerned what he could possibly do once he made it out. He's a loose cannon."

"Then we make sure he is _our_ loose cannon." Bea argued. "You're one of the people who trained him. You gave him all those marks and you know he's excellent at his job."

"Too excellent, if you hadn't noticed. But what you're asking me to do can end in terrible consequences. He was not to be let out unless he was pardoned and cleared, and until you're crowned, your grandfather still holds that power. The facility is highly secured, it will be very hard to get him out."

"But not impossible," Bea murmured, thinking. "You said he was regularly monitored. How does that work?" 

"The warden's office was located right in the same hallway, and the food ration for the prisoners were delivered at specific times. If the officers in charge ever noticed no one had been eating those meals, every guard in the palace will be alerted immediately."

Bea looked up at him, smiling. "Then we find him a replacement."

"What?" Frank gaped, forgetting his manners for a second before correcting himself. "I'm sorry, Princess, but what?"

"Check the city jail for anyone who bears a resemblance to Wes Porter and we'll switch him with someone without anyone noticing a thing. Is that going to work, General?"

Frank pondered the idea in his head. "It's… it's a start."

"Then look for a man, specifically one with the same hair."

"I…" the hesitation was still there.

"Discreetly, Frank. Just trust me, I have a feeling if we want information, we'd have to get it ourselves."

He shook his head. "I can't promise anything, Your Highness. All this could go--" Frank seemed to be extremely conflicted, torn between his sense of duty and her beliefs. After a moment of debating it all in his mind, Frank swallowed and nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Bea smiled nervously, just as worried as he was. 

They reached the grand staircase in the Great Hall and Bea gave him a knowing nod before heading upstairs. 

***

At some point during the day, one of the nurses in charge of Skye must have taken pity on the lonely white rose on her bedside table and decided to look for a vase to put it to. 

Bea set the fresh new rose she bought with her on the vase with the one she brought last night, smiling sadly at the thought that the flower won't be lonely on its own. Her smile turned into a heavy sigh as she looked at the girl lying on the bed. 

"Hey." Bea spoke softly, hoping she'd get the tiniest bit of response from the redhead, that Skye would open those beautiful blue eyes of hers or grace her with a tiny smile.

Unfortunately, her word was met with the same deafening silence and the frustrating beeping and whirring of the medical machinery around the bed. 

Reaching over, Bea gently brushed her fingers over the girl's pale cheeks and down to that scar that seemed to look invisible under the dimmed light of the room. 

She couldn't understand why… Skye should have woken up hours ago. Dr. Emery and the specialists that came over from Angeles were equally puzzled by the delayed awakening on Skye's case and were increasingly concerned as more hours passed by with her lack of response. 

Bea had asked the nurse in charge when she came over to check on Skye before she'd head to the studio. According to them, the operation had been successful. The swelling in her brain had been in the process of reducing during the course of the last twenty-four hours since her surgery and aside from her broken ribs and a bunch of bruises all over her body, the doctors were confident she should be waking up any time soon. The confidence that was slowly becoming doubtful as time went by. 

"I'll be back, Skye," Bea whispered, leaning down on the bed and pressing a soft kiss on Skye's forehead. _God, I miss her._

She missed so much from Skye. Her smile, her stormy blue eyes, the way she looks at Bea, her endearingly dry humor, their silly stupid banters and all those precious little moments they manage to find with each other… They were the things Bea had been looking forward to see at the end of a very stressful day, and the fact that she couldn't see any of those felt like Bea had been running around with no direction or even a light to follow through. 

_When did I become the girl who depended so much on something as simple as a smile from Skye? Is this what it feels like to truly care for someone so deeply? To not be able to talk to them could feel like missing a part of yourself that you didn't know existed?_

Bea stood back, fixing her dress as she took a deep breath. She casted one last look at the redhead before making her way to the door, nodding at the nurse who stood up immediately from her desk chair when she came out of the door. 

"My lady," the nurse curtsied.

Bea smiled as she passed. "Good evening."

The nurse was a bit surprised. "Good evening, ma'am."

She greeted the patients she came across to as well, bidding them a fast recovery before she reached the doors which were opened for her. The studio wasn't far from the infirmary so Bea made it to the West wing in less than five minutes. 

There's still about twenty minutes before the Report starts so she could still see a number of the guests and council members lingering about in the main floor. The dining hall had been set up for a small feast, mainly to the guests and the families of the staff and guards who died from the recent attack. 

She turned a corner and was surprised with a door suddenly opening to the left, revealing Brian Crandall and that stupid grin of his along with a familiar girl that Bea recognized as Zoe Leon, a famous celebrity dancer that the Selection had recruited for the dancing lessons of the suitors.

Brian's smile turned delighted at the sight of her, adjusting his suit jacket. "Princess, I've been looking for you."

"Brian," Bea dipped her head in return as Zoe curtsied. "Miss Zoe."

"Your Highness," the girl beamed, shooting Brian a look before turning to Bea. "I was just commending Sir Brian here about his vast knowledge in the art of dancing."

"Oh?" Bea looked at the guy, who tried to wave the compliment off in what she knew must be his attempt at being humble. For all she knew, he must be puffing his chest at that. "Impressive, Sir."

"Perhaps we'd have another dance some time, Princess." Brian suggested breezily. 

"We'll see, Brian," she simply said. Bea tried her best not to bristle, not in front of Zoe, so she decided to play it cool. The girl had a considerable fame in the dance industry and the last thing she'd need would be some celebrity spreading rumors about how she appeared to mean to her suitors.

She watched the two and almost asked if they were friends. Her eyes narrowed at them as they bantered. "Have you two known each other a while?"

"Not really," Zoe replied and gave Brian that look again and this time. "We met on my first session with suitors."

"What can I say?" Brian shrugged. "Miss Leon had been an outstanding instructor and as someone who excels at practically everything, it's not hard to believe that I'd be a favorite by the instructors too."

_Oh my god…_ Bea realized as it dawned on her. It seemed like every word he just said had some sort of double meaning that was only confirmed when she looked at the other girl. _Are they seriously flirting right in front of me?_ She almost laughed at the irony of the situation. It's not that she minded, but she couldn't believe they'd shamelessly do it in front of anyone. Much less her. 

Studying Brian closely, she noticed tiny details that she almost missed if she hadn't realized what was happening. One of the top buttons of his white shirt was messily done and she knew he didn't notice something had been missing on his jacket judging the empty punctured marks on his lapel.

Before she could tell him about it, they heard footsteps coming over and Duke Crandall and his wife rushed over to join them, shooting Zoe a look that made the girl stiffen on her spot then gave Bea an apologetic sweet smile before excusing herself.

"Son," the Duke greeted. "Your Highness."

"Glad to see you both together." Lady Crandall remarked, her smile too sweet it almost looked suspicious and Bea knew why. "We've been worried our son had been running late for the Report."

"No worries, Mother." Brian said, unbothered. "We were just talking about dances."

"With Miss Zoe." Bea added just as sweetly, and it showed the intended effect on the two older Crandalls as they smiled back, trying to hide their discomfort. 

The Duke cleared his throat. "We're actually glad to have caught up with you. We wanted to discuss our daughter Skye's immediate transfer to the medical center if her condition doesn't improve by tomorrow."

Bea froze and she tried her best not to seem as concerned as she was feeling on the inside. "So I see you've talked to her doctors."

"Yes, my lady, and we've been worried there might be something wrong." Lady Crandall said.

_Are you now?_ She wanted to ask. A talk to the nurses and Bea found out none of them had checked on Skye at all, merely sending an assistant to ask about her medical findings. _How is that for caring?_

"I just visited her, in fact. And the nurses said she'd just need a little bit of time to recover from being sedated. But if it turns out to be worse, I believe the best course of action is to transfer Lady Skye." Bea mentally crossed her fingers and prayed inside her head that she was right. She had to be right. 

_Wake up, Skye_ . She thought. _Don't let them take you away._

She spotted Ian heading to the studio and Bea took that as her cue. "I should go check on the production team. Excuse me." She smiled at the family before walking away.

Once she turned a corner, Bea called the nearest servant she could find and ordered him to locate a lapel pin from the room where she found Brian and Zoe walking out from. 

The servant came back a few minutes later with a silver Lakedon pin, bearing the symbol of the wolf which was Crandall family sigil. 

"Thank you." Bea dismissed, studying the lapel pin on her palm and shook her head. "Knew it."

"There you are." Someone called when she reached the studio, and she immediately hid the pin in her dress. Mia Warren rushed to her side, Lady Sydney in tow. "Your Highness, we've been looking for you!"

She was immediately surrounded by the two ladies, one of them fussing about her dress and the other, about her makeup. After Grace had to take a recovery leave for her sprain, Mia and Sydney took over her everyday wardrobe and makeup since Bea didn't trust the maids they sent to her to do the same job Grace does for her.

"Just a little touch up," Mia advised, calling one of the production crew to get the makeup kit and coming back to her with it, retouching the makeup on Bea's face with the remaining time they left before the credits could start to roll.

Sydney busied herself with fixing non-existent wrinkles on Bea's black A-line dress, readjusting the tiger pin on the shawl collar as well as the pleats on the skirt of her dress. 

"Bea," Ian greeted, coming over to her side. "Look who I found hobbling outside the studio."

"Grace!" She immediately beamed when she spotted the girl behind Ian. "You're here!"

"Of course, I'm here." Grace replied, relief all over her face despite the discomfort brought by the crutches she was standing on. "What else am I gonna do in my quarters, I've been there long enough for today."

"How did we do, Miss Grace?" Sydney asked, stepping back to show the girl their work.

"Stunning." Grace complimented and Ian nodded along in agreement. "I'm glad it was you girls taking over. I love the others, but I was worried they wouldn't know how to handle her." She tilted her head at Bea for emphasis.

"Hey!" Bea protested. 

Mia gave the makeup kit back to the staff and turned back to Bea. "So, how's Lady Skye doing? We heard she hasn't woken up."

"She was doing… fine, I suppose." She didn't really know how to answer that without heaving a sigh. "The doctors were still waiting for any sign of consciousness." 

"We'll be praying for her recovery." Sydney said with a genuine smile before she and Mia excused themselves. 

"Hey," Grace whispered. When Bea looked at her, there was this worry all over her face. "Did you get some rest at all?"

Bea didn't know how to answer that either, but she didn't have to either because one look at her and Grace knew. "Bea…"

"I'll be fine." She tried to assure her. "I just have to get through this."

"Did you eat at all?" 

Ian shot her a disapproving look.

"I will eat." She conceded. "After this."

That seemed to be enough to mollify the two but the worry on their faces didn't disappear.

"Two minutes!" The director called across the room. "Places, please!"

Bea shot Grace a smile before heading to the raised platform in front of the cameras with Ian and the King Father, smoothing down her dress and hair on her way. Everyone started settling into their seats. Grace headed to the chairs behind the camera with the other Maria, Sydney and Mia while she and Ian headed to their usual chairs out front.

With just one look at all the people in the studio, Bea knew the overall mood in the palace for the last few days had been somewhat bleak. The deaths are becoming more and more and it seemed like the rebels were succeeding in bringing the morale even farther down.

Mia and Sydney had done a great job on hiding how awfully tired she must have looked but Bea wondered if the people could see how just as gloomy as she had been feeling as well. There was only so much the makeup and pretty dresses could do, after all. Still, she tried to keep her face neutral and clear, sitting straight up there the way she always did and show everyone that the recent events hadn't shaken her at all. 

Carson stepped up the stage as the director signalled for the show to start. The man was dressed in black unlike his usual pastel suits, a solemn look on his face as he greeted everyone for the evening. 

The agenda for the Report was the same as every Friday: Updates regarding the political and government standing, the allocation funds, current projects on public works, upcoming events and of course, the security status of the country as well as an updated report of the war in New Asia. The last one had always been the same. The King Father made it sound like there was any progress on it but everyone knew that was something that never changed.

Once the members of the council had spoken, and the King Father stepped off the podium with a round of applause from the audience, a cue for Carson to walk back on stage. "Now, our dear Princess would like to say a few words regarding the recent events that had taken place in the palace only yesterday. Your Highness?"

The audience let out a more subdued applause as she stepped behind the podium. Unlike before, she didn't have a reason to give them a brilliant or charming smile. Bea swept her eyes across the audience and met Grace's, who gave her an encouraging smile, then to her brother Ian.

Bea smiled a little as she faced the cameras, her prepared speech laid out in front of her but she knew perfectly that wouldn't even need it. "Good evening, Solari. As it were, I'm sure all of you have heard about the recent attack within the palace yesterday noon, taking everyone by surprise and causing massive damage all over the premises. Tonight, I'm afraid I'm standing here in front of all of you... on behalf of my family and the government... to offer our sincerest condolences to the families and loved ones of every staff or members of the royal guards who had died on duty defending the palace from the rebels down to their last breaths." Bea paused, swallowing as her throat felt like closing up as her tears threatened to fall. How many times does she have to do this? Offer condolences time and time again every time a rebel attack happens? Will it ever stop? 

At the front row seats among the audience were the families of everyone who died in the attack yesterday, huddled together as they wept silently while she spoke. The wives now turned into widows, children who will never see their fathers or brothers ever again, their eyes cast down as if afraid to even face her. Some of the widows appeared to be too young to lose their husbands and one of them turned out to be pregnant. Looking at the faces of the families left behind by the deceased, Bea couldn't help but feel the guilt crash down on her shoulders.

"This may not be the war but it is the battle that the brave men and women working and serving in the palace had to face every day of their lives. I assure you we all had been hard at work in finding a way to make the palace, to make the entire country a safer place for our people. These men and women, soldiers or not, will not be forgotten by their colleagues, friends and all of us who owed our lives to them and will honor their memories by continuing to pass on the courage and bravery they inspired. To their families…" Bea looked over them as they turned their heads hesitantly. She gave them a soft smile, which on some of the women only made them cry even more. "It might not be the same without them anymore but we are here for you, and the crown will make it a mission you and your family will not face a set back from your loss. Let us now our heads for a few minutes in honor of the lives of our fellow Solarians."

Bea bowed her head and everyone in the studio did the same as she closed her eyes, saying a prayer inside her head. A few moments later, she raised her head and sighed, letting out the tension off her shoulder. She motioned for Carson to do his closing remarks and Bea felt a little more relief as the cameras finally stopped rolling.

"Everyone, everyone!" The King Father stood and headed to the front of the stage, the audience paused. "Dinner will be served at the Dining Hall and everyone is welcome to join."

With that, he and Ian led the crowd through the studio door. Bea stayed a little behind and approached the families who had taken their time to gather their bearings. 

"Hi," she smiled as the women looked up and scrambled to curtsy, taking her by surprise. "No, please. You don't have to!"

One of them, a middle-aged woman, smiled despite her tears. "Thank you for having us this evening."

"This evening was to honor their memories." Bea replied, meeting their tearful eyes one by one. "I hope that wasn't too much for any of you."

To answer her question, the pregnant woman burst into tears and Bea panicked for a second if she said something wrong. Grace and Maria actually stayed behind and listened as Bea talked to the families a few more minutes before urging them to the Dining Hall with them.

***

_There was something bothersome about the weight on top of her head, or perhaps the feeling of the cape around her shoulders that Bea couldn't seem to pinpoint what._

_The halls were empty, too quiet for her liking, if she was being honest. Not even the monotonous sound of the speakers playing slow music or the distant chattering of the court could be heard, and at that moment when she realized there must be something amiss._

_Bea passed by a mirror display by the foyer on the second floor and immediately stopped at the image staring back at her._

_There was a crown on her head, jeweled and made of gold, as it glinted from the harsh sunlight streaming through the huge windows and on the mirror in front of her. The weight on her back was the royal mantle held together over her shoulders by gold chains across her chest. It was their family's coronation robe, made of fine red velvet silk, edged with ermine and embroidered in gold. Everything about her looked majestic, composed and regal and she barely recognized herself anymore._

_"Your Majesty," a man she doesn't know, most likely one of the officers in the Royal Army, bowed and stood before her. "Your subjects have been waiting for their Queen."_

_"Queen?" Bea asked, unsure what exactly had been happening._

_Her birthday wouldn't be for a couple of months, and until then, she wasn't deemed fit to take her title so she didn't understand why she was dressed like that._

_"Yes, Your Majesty. You. Please follow me."_

_The man moved ahead without waiting for her and Bea followed, her head filled with utter confusion._

_The halls remained empty as they walked, the only other presence in the room she'd seen so far was the man marching ahead of her. They reached the grand staircase at the great hall and Bea was surprised it was decorated in their family banners._

_Still, it was empty. Where is everyone?_

_"I thought you said my subjects had been waiting." Bea pointed out._

_The man gave her a knowing smile. "Oh, they've been waiting for you."_

_He held out the royal orb and sceptre towards her and she accepted them, baffled. The man gestured down the staircase and let her move forward first. Bea started down the steps, the royal jewels glinting on her hands and the mantle gliding smoothly behind her as she walked._

_Instead of her family and friends and the people of Solari waiting for her, Bea froze on her feet when she turned and looked up the wall on her left where letters had been messily written in blood:_

_God can't save your Queen… or any of you._

_And below that were more marks, like hands trying to claw their way up, the blood seemed fresher, as it appeared to still be dripping._

_Bea followed the direction of the dripping blood downwards and her heart sunk as her world seemed to fall apart around her._

_"No, no, no…" Bea rushed forward, feeling crushed and numbed at the sight she stumbled into. "Ian…"_

_Ian's body leaned back against the wall right under the writings, covered in his own blood as he stared blankly up at her. Beside him was Grace, thrown across the floor carelessly and next to the girl was Skye along with others as they were piled across the formerly pristine marble floor which was now overflowing with the mixture of their blood._

_"Skye? Grace?" She called, her voice barely a whisper as if someone had stolen her ability to speak. The royal mantle felt so heavy on her shoulder as it soaked all the blood on the floor when she ran over to them. Bea whipped her head around to the man and was horrified to find him smiling peacefully back at her. "What did you do?"_

_"What do you mean, Your Majesty?" He replied. His smile began to look familiar and it was like his whole face suddenly shifted before her eyes and she recognized him. The man who killed her parents._

_"You!" Bea shot to her feet, her chest filling with sorrow and fury and the swirl of devastating emotions in her chest was slowly driving her insane._

_"I haven't done anything, my lady," the man spoke calmly. "It was your life, or theirs. I think we can both see what you have chosen."_

_He nodded at her hands and she looked down on them. Instead of the orb and sceptre, the North Star knife was on her left hand and a gun was on her right. Her fingers were clammy and sticky, covered in blood that she knew weren't hers._

_What… her numb hands shook, the weapons fell off her grasp and fell to the puddle of red all over the floor. I… what… I can't…_

_"That's right, Your Majesty." He confirmed. "I didn't even need to dirty my own hands this time. You've managed all that by yourself."_

_Bea looked back to the pile of bodies on the floor, tears falling down her cheeks. She wanted to scream, she wanted to call out their names but even that she couldn't manage. Her fists clenched and turned to the man behind her, only to see the gun pointed on her head._

_"Your time is up, Your Majesty." He grinned, and she was met by the flash of gunshot._

Bea startled awake, her eyes flew open and the sight of clean white linen spread was the first thing that registered in her mind.

"Bea?" 

_Huh?_ She heard a quiet voice behind her, along with the feeling of a hand running down her hair gently in soothing motions and Bea jumped up. 

"Skye?" Her eyes widened. 

Skye was lying back on the bed with a pile of pillows behind her as she stared back at Bea. She still had an IV attached to her wrist and the steady beeping of the machinery around them was still there, but the pale rosy hue had come back to Skye's cheek.

"You're awake…" Bea stared back at the redhead in awe, the haze of sleep suddenly gone. The amazement she was feeling pushed the dreadful dream she had to the back of her mind as a smile slowly made its way to her lips. "Oh my god, you're awake!"

Before Bea could stop herself, she lunged forward and wrapped an arm around the girl's neck, her heart felt like jumping out of her chest from relief and happiness for being able to see the pair of blue eyes once again. 

"Ow…" Skye groaned underneath her, but reached up to wrap her free arm around Bea's back and patted awkwardly with the IV attached to her arm. 

Bea untangled herself from the redhead and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm just… I'm just so happy you…"

But Skye only smiled, reaching for her hand and Bea let her have it, her skin no longer cold. In fact, it was warmer than she remembered and it felt like it had been so long.

Bea smiled back softly, squeezing the redhead's hand with both of hers. "How are you feeling?"

"Very stiff," Skye rasped, a hand on her torso as she tried to sit a little higher and winced at the effort. 

"Hey," she reached out, a hand on the girl's back to help her lay back down gently. "Take it easy."

The redhead didn't look happy. "I feel like I've been lying in this bed for a month." 

"Just a couple of days, almost." Bea corrected. The look of annoyance on Skye's face told her she knew that and wasn't as happy by it but it only made Bea smile. "I'm happy you're awake, though. I… I've been worried something went wrong with your surgery and we'd have to send you away to the proper hospital. Your family were more than happy to do that."

"Send me away?" 

"You were supposed to be awake since early yesterday."

"Oh." Skye looked a bit confused, and Bea figured her mind must still be a little hazy. It was confirmed when Skye shut her eyes, rubbing her temple. "My head is throbbing."

Bea stood up. "Let me call the nurse, okay?" 

"No!" The redhead gripped her hand tight, refusing to let go. "She already came in earlier while you were asleep. She's just waiting for Dr. Emery to come over."

"Oh, okay," Bea sat back down, but this time, on the edge of the bed. "Did she… asked what I'm doing here?"

"She wanted to wake you, but you looked like you really needed the sleep so I told her to let you be." Skye added, her voice so low and bashful. "Besides, I-- I don't want you to go."

"I'm not going then." Bea smiled, raising Skye's hand to her lips and kissing her knuckles softly. Her mind flashed back to the past couple of days and her eyes started to well. "I really missed you. I… I can't even begin to describe how lost I was since-- since they…"

"Bea," Skye squeezed her hand. "We'll be okay. I'm still here, and I'll keep on kicking if that's what I have to do."

She sniffed, blinking away her tears. "Would you stop being like that? I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you. Also, I want to hug you so damn tight but I know you'll literally break if I do that."

For the first time in a while, a smile broke through the redhead's face. "That might not be such a bad way to break apart."

"No!" Bea chuckled. "I'm using all my self control right now just so I won't end up breaking more of your ribs."

"And I already had one hug. I guessed I'd have to be patient and recover quickly in order to get another one." The redhead replied, thumb tracing circles on the back of Bea's hand.

Skye held her gaze and there was something about the way her blue eyes seemed to be lighter, more open, that made Bea want to see the thoughts behind them. 

Her heart skipped a beat, which wasn't any better. Every tension in her body was washed away by a wave of overwhelming relief once it sunk to her that Skye was finally awake and the fear of losing her had vanished from her chest just like that. 

Bea had only felt that kind of crippling fear once, and it completely consumed her as she watched her family die in front of her own eyes. It was like having her heart shatter into a million tiny pieces and the pain was too much that it almost felt numb and empty. The same fear came back when she saw Skye, almost lifeless, as she was being rushed to the infirmary and Bea was forced to face the fact that it might happen again.

She knew Skye had been one of the most important people in her life, but she didn't expect herself to be that lost by the idea that she might not be able to look into her eyes again, or her smile, or feel the gentle touch of her lips on hers. 

And a new fear started to surface. The fear of not knowing how deeply she truly cares about Skye. _Is it possible I was starting to feel something more for her?_ Bea had never fallen that way before. It was new territory, and it scared the hell out of her. For better or worse, it would definitely complicate a lot of things for her. 

_You're overthinking again_ , Skye told her before and Bea shook her head, trying to shake the confusing feelings and thoughts from her head. She didn't have to dwell on them now, especially when she and Skye were still discovering a lot of things between them.

"Have you been taking care of yourself too?" Skye broke the silence, eyeing her with concern.

Bea narrowed her eyes playfully. "Is that how bad I look right now?"

"Well…" the redhead drew out, smirking. "I mean, you look like you need to sleep for at least 12 hours but otherwise, you still look lovely."

"Good answer," she smiled. "What would you do if I say I let you sleep it off for the both of us?"

"Hey, it's not like I was passed out cold willingly!"

"You sure took your time." Bea countered.

"You just missed me." 

Their eyes met and she couldn’t deny that, for some reason, her cheeks warmed and she knew they must be flushing. She leaned in impulsively, not thinking of anything else but Skye, and pressed her lips to the redhead’s.

Skye pulled her closer, holding Bea’s face gently with her hands. Bea pressed forward and Skye leaned back, tipping them both over onto the hospital bed, but then the door opened and the two jumped apart.

“Hello!” the doctor called out in surprise. It was a young man with tan skin and brown hair, one that Bea had never seen before. Dr. Emery was behind him, a clear smirk on her face as she watched Bea try to act like she hadn’t just gotten caught kissing Lady Skye.

“Hello,” Bea replied with as much dignity as she could muster, scooting back into her chair by Skye’s side but not before she almost knocked over Skye’s IV stand. It wobbled dangerously, but Bea caught it before it fell over. She cleared her throat while Skye fought off a fierce blush. 

“Dr. …?”

“Valentine,” the man said. “I’m Dr. Emery’s new intern. I’m here to check on Lady Crandall, that is, if she’s not otherwise occupied.”

Dr. Emery coughed in the background, clearly stifling a laugh.

“I’m fine,” Skye said once she’d managed to control her blush. “Check away.”

Bea distanced herself just a little more from Skye’s bedside so the doctor could get through.

“Your intern, Dr. Emery?” Bea asked while Dr. Valentine asked Skye questions and proceeded with the checkup.

“Yes, your Highness,” Dr. Emery replied. “He’s new, just started a few months ago in Angeles Medical Center and had been an outstanding intern in his year, still I didn’t want him risking your… _friend’s_ condition while she was unconscious. But since she’s doing much better, he can’t do any harm.”

“How’s she really doing, though?”

Dr. Emery smiled. “She’s improving a lot. The recovery of her injuries progressed positively while she was out. She'll have to do another scan as soon as we can to see if the swelling in her brain reduced completely. I want to keep her for a few days to watch her head injury so she still wouldn't be a hundred percent, but I’m sure she’ll be perfectly healthy in a week or so.”

“But how?” Bea wondered. “She looked so bad when they brought her in.”

“New technology,” Dr. Emery said simply. “Here especially, but also at Angeles University, we’ve been making a lot of progress, especially for treating internal injuries. Speeding up the healing mostly, but we’ve also learned how to reduce pain from more serious injuries.”

Bea nodded. She remembered her father had made several bids to fund medical research throughout his reign, and that must have been something that the King Father hadn’t done away with.

“I’m glad for it,” Bea admitted. “If not for that, I think the Duke and Duchess of Lakedon would have taken Skye somewhere else.”

“Ah, yes,” Dr. Emery replied. “You seem really close to her.”

Bea flushed again. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Of course I won’t,” Dr. Emery said. “Doctor-patient confidentiality. I don’t believe in harming my patients, you know.”

Dr. Valentine turned and shot a wink at Bea while he was listening to Skye’s heart. Skye shot her a sheepish smile.

Bea nodded, and even despite all the betrayal in her life, she still believed them. Just like she’d believed Michael when he’d said he wouldn’t tell anyone. But Bea knew she needed to be careful now, because at this rate she and Skye might be caught by someone who wouldn’t look the other way.

"And…" Dr. Valentine said, scribbling something on his board. "That's all for now." He looked down at Skye with a cheerful smile. "I'll come back to get you in a bit for your scan and we'll see about the adjustments on your medication but for now, you might need some food and maybe some alone time with the pretty lady--"

"Valentine." Dr. Emery cut him off, a chiding look on her face. "That's the Princess, not just a lady."

Dr. Valentine simply smiled. "Still a pretty one."

"We'll get going." The older doctor sighed, shooting Bea an apologetic glance. "Have a pleasant morning, Your Highness."

"Likewise." Bea dipped her head. "And, um… you didn't see anything."

"Totally." Dr. Valentine agreed, nodding.

"Valentine." Dr. Emery called again impatiently.

"Coming!" He grinned at them before following the attendant out the door.

The room was silent for a whole minute before Bea stepped back and slumped on the chair beside Skye's bed. The redhead exchanged glances at her, eyes wide.

"We really should be careful." Bea said, still bewildered.

Skye nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"But I'll stay and help you eat, if you want." She gave the girl a hopeful glance. 

"Only if you join me. You look like you haven't eaten much lately."

"But hospital food?" Bea made a face.

"This is the palace, Bea," Skye pointed out. "Maybe it's not the same?"

Bea pretended to consider that for a bit even if she knew she would join Skye anyway. She offered her hand and the redhead took it. 

Skye glanced over at her and studied her for a bit. "You should get change out of that before the whole palace sees you like that."

"What's wrong with my outfit?" Bea looked down on her white sweater and the light blue sweatpants she had been wearing since last night when she came in to check on Skye. She doesn't usually wear them but Bea realized how comfortable she had been in them. 

"You look really cute, but the court might not be used to seeing you in anything other than a fancy dress."

"Fine, fine. After we get breakfast."

"Hospital food for breakfast." Skye wondered out loud. "Weird things happen all the time so it seems."

Bea chuckled at that. They heard movements from the hallway and a maid wheeled in a cart laid with food and Bea jumped right in to help set it up.

***

It was miserable in Grace’s quarters, and she hadn’t even been stuck there more than a day yet.

Sure, she’d been moved into a single (with its own bathroom!) so neither she nor her roommate would disturb the other, but that just compounded the loneliness she felt. At least when she had a roommate, there was someone to talk to for an hour or so before bed and for a short time while she was getting dressed in the morning and scarfing down her breakfast.

But she just had four walls, a spare bed, her things scattered all around the small room because she hadn’t bothered to unpack from the move yet, and too much time.

Too much time to think about the throbbing in her ankle, which swelled despite the wrap around it and screamed out whenever she touched it. Too much time to worry about her mother’s pin, agonizing over where it might have gone. Wondering if she’d ever get it back.

And a lot of time, far too much time, spent thinking about Ajay. And on that topic, she was completely polarized.

One side of her was begging her to stop. Everything about her relationship with Ajay was wrong, and thinking about it made her want to run away to a different province as fast as she could. Thinking about Bea’s face if she found out that her trusted maid and best friend had been involved with her most promising suitor made her want to cry. How could she do this to Bea? As a matter of fact, how could she do this to Ajay? She was single-handedly ruining his future by letting herself fall for him. 

But then the other side of her told her… Ajay knew what he was doing. And maybe Bea wasn’t as taken with him as she pretended to be for the cameras. And it was hardly her fault for falling for Ajay when he had the audacity to exist and talk to her and look at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. And anyways, hadn’t he kissed her? And he certainly hadn’t looked like he’d regretted it after.

It was that argument that she was struggling with most of all, chewing her way through the thickness of the conflict while she spent the hours staring at her walls or absently rereading mundane journal entries, going all the way back to the grammar exercises and character writing drills that her father had made her do to learn his language. Their language.

Usually the Shanghainese helped her parse her thoughts, the process of translating them uncovering the true words to describe her feelings. Even occasionally the discovery of the perfect word for her thoughts in a different language that didn’t translate into English or Mandarin.

But it wasn’t helping this time, and even worse, Grace couldn’t figure out why.

She closed her eyes and tried something, an idea that a therapist had given her after her mom died for when she could barely cope with the screaming agony of missing her mother and feeling her absence in every breath.

_“Remember simple things about the situation_ ,” the therapist had said. “ _And work your way up to the more complex things.”_

_Okay,_ Grace said to herself. _The first step here is admitting it._

It still took her a few minutes before she found the right translation from raw emotion to refined language.

_I’m falling for Ajay,_ she eventually admitted to herself. _And he probably likes me, too._

That was the best she was going to give herself, so she accepted it and moved on.

_Ajay is only here to win Bea’s heart and her hand in marriage,_ she thought, adding it to the list. _I don’t know how Bea feels about Ajay. If she likes him, she’ll choose him._

That was definitely a good thing to remind herself. 

_I’m not allowed to be with Ajay,_ another voice in her head reminded her. _It’s illegal for one of the Selected to have outside relationships. If we were caught, we’d both be locked up for sure._

Bea was compassionate, of course, and Grace couldn’t believe that the young princess would punish her or Ajay for something like this. But Bea’s influence only went so far, especially when there was an explicitly stated law.

Before Grace could lose herself in a whirlpool of more cynical thoughts, though, a light knock sounded at her door.

“Come in,” she said, cringing internally at the idea of ordering others around but not having any other choice due to her immobility.

A butler-- _Ajay’s_ butler-- entered the room and firmly closed the door behind him, taking the extra measure to lock it with shaking hands.

“Is everything okay?”

“I didn’t want to be put in this position,” the man started. “But I don’t want to lose my job. So here, take this, and forget you ever saw me.”

He held out a folded piece of paper to Grace, and as soon as she took it, she knew it could only be from one person. She unfolded it and found Mandarin characters written in a careful hand, designating a note that could only be from one person.

“Ajay sent you?” she asked.

“The less I know, the better,” the butler insisted. “Now, I’m going to leave before I get myself into any more danger.”

He turned to unlock the door, but Grace stopped him before he could leave.

“I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you,” she said. “Thank you for bringing me this. Please, go to Greg in the kitchens and tell him I sent you. He’ll give you some food. I wish I could give you more in return, but…”

The butler seemed to understand, though he still looked anxious about the prospect of being caught in Grace’s room. He nodded quickly, and then all but fled from Grace’s room.

Alone again, but this time filled with anticipation that thrummed through her entire body, Grace finished unfolding the note and read it.

_Meet me in my rooms tonight after dinner,_ the note read. _I need to see you._

The phrasing was weird, implying that he wanted to see her rather than that he wanted to speak with her, but it didn’t really matter to Grace. Her heart started beating faster, rationality being thrown at the window in the face of getting to see Ajay again.


End file.
